She's in My Veins
by J.D. Cunegan
Summary: Ricki Castle is a famous novelist and the object of many a fanboy's desire. But when a murder brings her into contact with the NYPD, Ricki finds herself both inspired and smitten with Detective Beckett. Obviously AU.
1. Chapter 1: Stormfall

_Jacob K. Javits Convention Center, New York…_

Ricki Castle wasn't actually her name, but in her opinion, it looked a lot better on the _New York Times_ bestseller list than Rebecca Abigail Rodgers. Besides, she was far from the first author to use a pen name.

She just legally changed to her pen name for convenience's sake.

As much as Ricki loved book signings, seeing lines wrapping around the block full of people eager for a few seconds of her time and her barely legible signature, truth was she loved conventions even more – especially if she was invited to speak at a panel. Something about people turning to her for insight or advice into the craft of writing that stroked her ego just right.

So here she sat, at the world-famous New York Comic Con, her black hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. She wore her best royal blue button-down, keeping the top three buttons undone. A black blazer and navy blue jeans completed the look.

Ricki wasn't just here to speak on the Women in Fiction panel – of the six planned speakers, she and a comic book writer named Gail were the only women – she was also celebrating the fact that her creative meal ticket, CIA hunk-a-thon Derrick Storm, was now the star of a graphic novel.

Thankfully, Black Pawn had worked closely with Marvel Comics to ensure a faithful transition from novel to sequential art. It was far better than the _Unholy Storm_ movie they made, which wound up going straight to video after a myriad of script and casting issues. It was so bad that when Black Pawn asked about movie rights for the forthcoming _Storm Fall_, Ricki said no without hesitation.

_But Ricki_, her publicist, Paul, had whined. _Think of the millions!_

Ricki already had millions. Paul was just worried about his damn commission.

Pushing logistics of the publishing world aside, Ricki put on her best smile and sat up a little straighter when a skinny boy, probably no older than 15, approached a microphone standing among the crowd. She clutched her own mic in both hands, resting in her lap. She knew it looked suggesting as hell, and she didn't care.

After all, Ricki Castle had an image to live up to.

"Ms. Castle…" The boy swallowed, clearly nervous. "Is it true that _Storm Fall_ will be the last Derrick Storm novel?"

Ricki rolled her eyes, but the smile never faltered. "First of all, Ms. Castle is my mother." Scattered laughter from the crowd. Ricki slipped her hand over her ponytail before flipping it in front of her left shoulder.

"And yes." She sighed, perhaps a little too dramatically. "_Storm Fall_ will be the last book in the Derrick Storm series."

A hushes murmur came over the crowd, and the boy apparently forgot the one-question limit, because she leaned toward the mic again, with a renewed sense of bravado. "Then what's next?"

Truth be told, that was a good question. Ricki didn't have an answer. Well, she didn't have a _good_ answer, because technically, "I don't know" was an answer. She sighed, trying to keep it light to fit the celebratory mood of the convention, squinting her brown eyes and shrugging her shoulders.

""Well, Alexis starts high school in the fall." Ricki's face brightened considerably at the mention of her daughter, who lived with her in their loft in SoHo. Alexis was bright beyond her years and, arguably, far more mature than Ricki. Given Ricki's personality and her rocky relationship with Alexis' father, Martin, she wasn't sure where the redhead got it.

It certainly hadn't come from Ricki's mother, Martha.

A faceless voice jumped from the crowd. "You're not retiring, are you?"

Ricki smirked. "Please! Patterson will off Alex Cross for good before I stop writing." A playful remark, knowing full well the rest of her poker buddies would needle James Patterson over it the next time they all met for cards, laughs, and drinks.

"You know…" She chewed on her lower lip, glancing at the ceiling in thought. "I'm not sure. Just…be on the lookout for something new and exciting whenever the inspiration strikes. In the meantime, there's always my new Derrick Storm graphic novel. I'll be signing copies at the Marvel booth at 3:30."

Flashbulbs exploded, the crowd murmuring and clamoring for more of Ricki's time. She smiled and waved before glancing into one of the cameras, giving her best seductive look, and blowing a kiss. Out of the corner of her eye, Ricki was sure she saw a fanboy faint.

* * *

_Downtown New York…_

"Allison Tisdale, 20 years old. She's a social worker." Javier Esposito read off the facts as Kate Beckett walked into the crime scene, purpose in each step and focus in her steely gaze. The detective focused her green eyes straight ahead, even as she slapped on baby blue latex gloves and joined Lanie Parish, the ME, by the body.

"Don't let the elaborate staging fool you." Lanie glanced up at her friend, clicking her pen and making a note on her metal clipboard. "Cause of death is two gunshots to the chest."

Kate chewed on her lower lip, brushing a strand of her short hair – brown with a hint of red. Recognition threatened to overwhelm her. Not because of the victim – she'd never met Allison Tisdale – but the staging. The naked body, covered in red rose petals, giant yellow sunflowers covering her eyes.

A crime of passion, this wasn't. Nor did it appear to be a revenge killing or some other mundane motive – unless the killer was using this elaborate, purposeful staging to throw them off the scent. Kate filed that thought away for later, choosing instead of focus on the body in front of her.

"This look familiar to anyone?" Kate's eyes surveyed the others.

Lanie and Esposito glanced at each other and shook their heads. Detective Kevin Ryan – looking every bit as Irish as the name suggested – came over from across the room, the knot on his blue tie so big Kate thought she could land a plane on it.

"I think I know." He gave his partner a smug grin. "Our killer was a fan of mystery novels. Ricki Castle books, to be exact."

"Pretty big fan, too." Kate nodded, wandering to Allison's head and crouching to get a better look at the flowers. "Our killer re-enacted a murder from _Flowers for Your Grave_."

"No kidding." Ryan shook his head. "How much more obscure can you get?"

Lanie and Esposito exchanged another glance, before Esposito arched a brow at Kate. "You actually read that mess? Ryan, I get, but _you_?"

Kate shugged, trying her best to be nonchalant. "Sometimes."

Lanie sauntered past her friend, placing a glove-covered hand on her shoulder. "Girl, would it kill you to have some fun in your life?" She waved off Kate's look of confusion and indignation. "I mean, really, curling up with Castle books on a Friday night? Why not go live a little? Pick up a man…hell, pick up a woman, if you want."

Before Kate could respond, Lanie pointed at her. "A little lipstick wouldn't hurt, either."

* * *

_Jacob K. Javits Convention Center…_

This part was less fun. The _Storm Fall_ launch party that Paul and the big wigs at Black Pawn sprung for amid the convention. The hype surrounding the graphic novel was nothing but fun, but Ricki was suddenly reminded of just how exhausting launching her novels was anymore.

She waved at a throng of fans, wearing a pair of sunglasses to shield herself from the flashbulbs. They were no more numerous than at the panel earlier, but in the confined space tucked in the back of the convention center, they seemed far brighter.

Combine the lights with the thumping bass pouring out of the speakers – a DJ for a book launch? – and Ricki found herself battling one hell of a headache.

Leaning in, she whispered to Paul. "Why does the publicity push get bigger with each novel?"

Paul smirked, running a hand through his slicked-back hair. "Price of fame."

"This will be my twenty-first bestseller." She shrugged. "Shouldn't 'new Ricki Castle novel' suffice by now?"

Before Paul could answer, Ricki slipped away from him, wandering down the steps leading off the stage, waving at more fans and pausing to sign a few autographs. A nameless blonde approached her, breath reeking of alcohol, pushing down the front of her chest to show her ample cleavage.

Old hat by now, Ricki knew what she wanted, scrawling black Sharpie across the woman's skin.

Capping the marker, Ricki wandered to the bar without acknowledging the other woman's thanks. Alcohol sounded really good at the moment, and Ricki gave the bartender a thankful glance when he already had a glass of champagne at the ready. She downed half of the glass in one gulp and sighed.

"You used to have fun at these things." A flighty voice broke through the din.

Ricki turned and gave a forced smile. "About fifteen books ago, mother."

Martha gave a dismissive wave of her hand, her emerald dress going surprisingly well with her red hair. The older woman's eyes scanned the crowd, even as she spoke to her daughter. "Oh, _lighten up_, Rebecca." Ricki cringed every time her mother used her given name. "The booze is free, the fans are in love with you, and I'm willing to bet at least half of them want to sleep with you." Martha's eyes lit up. "Oh, speaking of…"

The older woman clapped her hands together. "No ring!" Martha grabbed the flute of champagne from Ricki's hand, downing the rest and setting the glass on the bar. "Look out, everyone! Mama's on the prowl!"

As Martha wandered into the crowd, Ricki could barely make out the sing-song "Don't wait up!"

Ricki sighed and shook her head, leaning her elbows on the bar and casting a sideways glance at another, much younger redhead. "Why did I let you talk me into coming here?"

"Don't look at me, mom." Alexis shrugged, but the look in her eyes told Ricki she was actually enjoying herself. "It's your book, your party."

Ricki cringed, waving for another drink. "It's just…it's so predictable now."

Alexis folded her arms across her chest, eyebrows arched. She enjoyed giving her mother a hard time like this. "What, looking for something other than chests to sign?"

"No." Ricki sighed again, tugging on the collar of her white button-down. "I mean, yes. I mean…" She shook her head and twirled the Sharpie in her free hand, sipping on her new drink. "It's all so fake, so…shallow."

"But…you do shallow."

Ricki flashed an annoyed glare at her daughter, but instantly softened. "I used to be cool. I used to be the talk of the town, the kind of person whose exploits wound up on Page Six while the book sales skyrocketed. Now I'm here at the bar, hanging out with my just-teenage daughter on a school night."

Ricki frowned. "Why are you here, anyway? Don't you have boys to chase after or wild gossip to spread with your friends?"

Alexis shrugged. "I never miss your launch parties."

"And I love you for it." Ricki smiled, a little more genuine than before, but still pained. "I mean, you gotta live a little, though. Like, when I was your age…wait, no. I can't tell that story. It's wildly inappropriate." Ricki smiled. "Which is sort of my point. Don't you want wildly inappropriate stories you can't share with your children?"

Again, the redhead shrugged. "I'll just tell them what it was like raising you."

Ricki's eyes narrowed and she hunched her right shoulder. "Funny…" She looked at her drink again and sighed, downing the rest of it in one gulp, ignoring the burn slithering down her throat. "It's all the same…_Oh, I'm your biggest fan_…_You're my favorite author_…_Would you please sign my underwear?_" Ricki shook her head. "Just once, I'd like someone to come up to me and say something new."

As if on cue, a voice from behind grabbed Ricki's attention. "Ms. Castle?"

Removing the cap from her pen, and ready with her _Ms. Castle is my mother_ quip, Ricki spun on the balls of her feet. "Where would you like it?"

Facing the source of the voice, her eyes were instantly drawn to a golden shield. Without registering it, her eyes followed to the person holding the shield and…_oh, hello there_. A woman not much shorter than Ricki, brown hair cropped in an adorable style, outfit nearly identical.

And her eyes. Oh, those green eyes…Ricki could already feel herself getting lost in them.

Ricki swallowed, the corners of her mouth threatening to curl into a smile.

"Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD." The other woman, hottie that she was, placed her badge on the holster on her belt and approached. "We need to ask you a few questions about a murder that took place earlier tonight."

So struck by Detective Beckett, was Ricki, that she barely noticed Alexis over her shoulder, yanking the Sharpie out of her grasp and whispering in her mother's ear, "That's new."

Ricki swallowed again, finding herself speechless for the first time in a long, long while.


	2. Chapter 2: Shadow

_Interrogation, NYPD 12__th__ Precinct…_

Ricki Castle stared at the drab walls surrounding her, though there wasn't really anything to look at. The interrogation room reminded her a lot of her freshman year dorm, only without the roommate who snored like she was slaughtering a pig. Ricki glanced at herself in the mirror, cocking a sideways grin and tightening her ponytail.

Bags under her eyes aside, Ricki knew she still had it.

Finally, after what had felt like hours, the door cracked open and the detective from the book signing party walked in, burying her face in a manila folder and taking a seat across from Ricki. The author studied the other woman carefully, trying to fight the urge to grind her teeth against her lower lip.

Ricki sat up a little straighter, noting how the detective's shoulders hunched. Detective Beckett was the one chewing on her lower lip, but in thought and concentration, and Ricki was under the impression that she was using silence to her advantage.

Ricki hated that thought. Beckett had said she had questions; this treatment made Ricki wonder if she was actually a suspect.

"There have actually been two murders." Beckett laid the file flat on the table. Ricki stole a glance, fighting the urge to frown when she saw her own mugshot. "Two weeks ago, Marvin Fisk was found murdered in his home." Beckett slid a photo of the body across the table. "We didn't think much of it until we found Ms. Tisdale's body this evening."

Another photo.

Ricki studied them, shaking her head and chewing on her lip. She grabbed the photo of Fisk and studied it through hooded eyes, cocking her head to the side before returning the photo to the detective. "Looks like I have a fan."

Beckett nodded. "A seriously deranged fan."

Ricki flashed a smug, borderline seductive grin. "I wouldn't call you deranged, Detective."

Beckett frowned. "What?"

Ricki leaned forward in her seat, arms resting on the table, hands clasped together. "Come on, Detective…_Flowers For Your Grave_? _Hell Hath No Fury_? Only hardcore Castle groupies know about those books, and quite frankly, if I've got a copycat murderer out there, I'm appalled that they're aping my lesser works."

"So…" Beckett shook her head, folding her arms across her chest and giving Ricki a suspicious, rueful glare. "The fact that we have two bodies is of no consequence to you, yet you're upset that our murderer didn't choose the right books as inspiration."

"Detective." Ricki flashed another grin, this one a little more biting than the last. "Murder happens. Has ever since Cain whacked Abel. Nothing I can do to stop it. There are two kinds of folks who sit around thinking about how to kill people: psychopaths and mystery writers." She shrugged. "I'm the kind that pays better."

Annoyance flashed onto Beckett's face. "Yeah…_about _you…you've got a hell of a rap sheet for a mystery writer." Beckett jabbed her finger at the file. "Drunken disorderlies. Resisting arrest." Beckett leaned forward. "You stole a police horse."

Ricki smirked. "Borrowed."

"You were _naked_ at the time."

A seductive smile crept onto Ricki's face again, and she looked at Detective Beckett through hooded eyes. Their eyes briefly locked, before Detective Beckett flinched and recoiled. "It was spring."

Beckett's mouth flung open, disbelief in her eyes. "And the charges were dropped? _Every_ time?!"

Again, Ricki shrugged. "What can I say? The mayor's a fan. And so are you."

Beckett's eyes narrowed. "I'm reconsidering."

Ricki sat back in her chair, her eyes narrowing again. "I'm getting the feeling there's not a lot of fun in your life. Come on, Detective, don't you ever feel the urge to just…get out there and let loose? Let me guess, you always come to a complete stop at a red light and you never fudge on your taxes." She leaned forward again, whispering. "Do you _ever_ have any fun? Let your hair down, drop your top, little _Cops Gone Wild_?"

Part aghast, part intrigued, Beckett shook her head and forced her mouth closed. "You do know I'm wearing a gun?"

* * *

_Ricki Castle's loft…_

Ricki's monthly poker game with fellow bestsellers James Patterson and Stephen J. Cannell was one of the highlights of her life as an author. Sometimes, another author came and joined in, but more often than not, they were one-and-done – either because they'd lost all of their money, or they found out that all of the rumors about Ricki were true and couldn't hang.

Which was fine. More booze for her.

Her drink went untouched on this night, though, her eyes burning a hole through the cards in her hand. Patterson and Cannell were bantering back and forth, and their words only barely registered.

"Nice crack at the panel, Rick." Cannell smirked and shook his head.

"Just means I'll have to kick your ass extra hard tonight." Patterson shook his head and tossed three blue chips into the center of the table. "Who knows, maybe I'll wipe you out enough that you'll have to bring Derrick Storm back."

Ricki smirked, not once lifting her eyes from her cards.

Cannell threw a couple white chips onto the pile. "I don't know why you killed him off, Rick. Big mistake. Slicing the head off the golden goose…" He shook his head, scratched at his graying goatee. "…I hope you know what you're doing."

Patterson pushed the rest of his chips to the center with a sigh. "Can't be worse than that _Unholy Storm_ crapfest they call a movie."

Ricki's eyes shot up and pushed her pile of chips toward the others. "Alright, just for that, I'm gonna bleed you two dry."

Patterson and Cannell exchanged a glance before Patterson sighed and folded. He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, regarding Ricki with something between suspicion and curiosity. "You alright tonight, Ricki?"

"Yeah." She straightened in her seat, tightening her grip on the cards. "Just…story trouble."

Cannell shrugged. "Bring it. Maybe we can help."

Ricki set down her cards and downed half of the beer bottle that was sitting to her right. "Alright, I'm writing this thing…" She shook her head. "Famous author, has a psycho fan who starts staging murders like those in the books."

Cannell smirked. "A bit self-aggrandizing, don't you think?"

"Please." Ricki shook her head. "This is _me_ we're talking about. So, the crime scenes are clean. No fingerprints, no DNA. Nothing. But the psycho writes the author a letter, fingerprints all over the thing." Ricki paused, shuddering internally. She was glad Black Pawn screened her fan mail, because apparently, there were some freaks out there.

"Which leads the cops to the guy's apartment, where there's plenty of evidence to convict." Ricki had asked to accompany Detective Beckett when they searched the place, but Beckett made it very clear after the interrogation she wanted nothing more to do with the author. As much as Ricki wanted to shadow Detective Beckett a little more, she found her tolerance for the inside of a jail cell waning these days.

Cannell shook his head. "And?"

Ricki swallowed. "That's it."

Patterson visibly blanched. "That's terrible. How is it you've made the _Times_ list?" He was teasing, but Ricki still felt the anger boiling over. "Where's the twist? Where's the character who's convinced it's a set-up? Who's out there vouching for this guy's innocence?"

Realization washed over Ricki, and her eyes flicked to the watch on her left wrist. It was almost 11 at night, but if she knew Detective Beckett like she thought she did, chances were she was still at the precinct. Downing the rest of her beer, Ricki folded her cards and gave Patterson a knowing smile.

"You win this round, Jimmy." She smiled at the aghast look on his face. "But next month, be prepared to write three Alex Cross books a year."

She was out the door before Patterson or Cannell could react.

* * *

_NYPD's 12__th__ Precinct…_

As soon as the elevator pinged and the doors opened, Ricki Castle burst through and ran through the bullpen, her heels clacking loudly against the wooden floor. Her surroundings were quiet and abandoned, and Ricki cursed herself for her exuberance at this hour.

She stopped and spotted Beckett's desk. Maybe this trip wasn't a waste of time after all, because Ricki smiled when she saw the black leather jacket hung over the back of the chair, the phone resting atop a stack of paperwork.

She hadn't left yet after all.

Ricki turned and noticed a white board, crime scene photos and red permanent marker streawn about the surface. It all fit perfectly, the pieces coming together like one of those jigsaw puzzles Ricki and Alexis used to tackle when the redhead was younger.

But there was a piece missing. Ricki knew it.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?!"

Ricki spun around to take in Detective Beckett holding a steaming mug of coffee, sleeves of her white button-down rolled up to her elbows and a death stare etched onto her face. Ricki smiled anyway, because damn if this woman wasn't all kinds of cute and beautiful and enticing, even when she was angry.

"You arrested the wrong man."

Beckett slammed her mug onto the desk, the liquid threatening to spill. "_Excuse_ me?!"

"It's not the crazed fan." Ricki shook her head, turning her attention back to the white board. She spotted the head shot of Harrison Tisdale, grabbing it and placing it just under the photo of his sister, Allison.

Rolling her eyes, Beckett folded her arms over her chest. "Fine. Humor me."

Ricki cast a seductive smile over her shoulder. "If you insist, _Detective_…" She turned back to the white board. "If Kyle was really as obsessed with my books as we were led to believe, he wouldn't get details wrong. Like, our third victim? Stabbed in the swimming pool? If we're gonna go with _Death of a Prom Queen_, her dress should've been blue, not yellow."

"You're expecting a psychotic to get the details right?"

"If Kyle was _truly_ that obsessed, he would!" Ricki stroked her chin, more for effect than anything, her brown eyes refusing to tear away from Harrison's head shot. "We know about Harrison's financial problems, we know his father's in declining health, and we know that if Allison were out of the picture, Harrison would stand to make all of those money problems go away."

Clearly unswayed, Beckett joined Ricki at the white board. She purposefully kept her gaze on the board, arms still folded across her chest. Ricki let her eyes flick downward, trying to steal a quick glance down Beckett's shirt.

Beckett rolled her eyes again.

"So you're thinking Harrison killed his sister so he would inherit the money." Beckett chewed on her lower lip. "But Fisk was killed two weeks before Allison. And what of the third murder?"

Rickin shrugged. "All to throw us off the scent, make us chase after Kyle instead of him."

It was a plausible theory, but Beckett was never going to actually verbalize as such – at least, not with Ricki standing next to her. "And what proof do you have, Ms. Castle?"

"Who needs proof? It's a great story!"

"_I_ need proof!" Beckett glared at Ricki. "I can't just call up the DA and tell them your story and get the charges filed. I have to _build a case_, Castle." She sighed and shook her head. "Why are you even here?"

Ricki shrugged and cast a questioning glance.

"Clearly, you don't care about the victims." The venom practically dripped from Beckett's words. "You're not an investigator, no matter how much you like to play one, so again…why are you here?"

"For the story."

"Not everything is a story." Beckett rolled her eyes again. "Sometimes a psychopath is just a psychopath."

Ricki smirked and shook her head. "There's _always _a story." She approached Beckett, cocking her head to the side. "Always a chain of events that makes everything make sense. Take you, for example." Ricki's smile broadened. "Girls like you don't become cops. No…smart, good-looking women become doctors, lawyers, actors…even writers." Another smug grin. "And yet here you are. Why?"

Equal parts intrigued and annoyed, Kate shook her head. "You're the writer. You tell me."

"Well…" Ricki bit her lip as she studied the detective, her eyes studying the curve of her jaw, the way her locks curled around the back of her ears. The flash of gold in her green eyes. The way that shirt clung to her curves. Ricki leaned back against the desk, straightening her back, knowing full well it thrust out her chest.

"You're not bridge-and-tunnel. No trace of the boroughs when you talk. Manhattan. You came from money. You went to college, and I'm willing to bet you went to a damn good one. You had options, lots of 'em, and most of them were a lot more socially acceptable than cop. And yet…there's your badge." Ricki approached Beckett, leaning in to whisper. "Something happened. Not to you, someone close. You're wounded, but you're not_ that_ wounded. Something happened to someone you love, and you couldn't live with the fact that whoever's responsible was never caught."

Beckett swallowed the lump in her throat, eyes darting back and forth. She was desperately trying to think of something to say, anything to keep Ricki from learning just how on the mark she really was.

Ricki's eyes softened, and she straightened again. "And that, Detective Beckett, is why you're here."

"Cute trick." Beckett swallowed again before grabbing her jacket and hoisting it over her shoulders, brushing past Ricki without hesitation. Her voice cracked. "But don't think you know me…"

Ricki watched Beckett push past her, the grin on her face disappearing. She saw the detective punch the button to the elevator, Beckett's foot tapping impatiently as she waited. If Ricki didn't know any better, she could've sworn she saw Beckett's shoulders bobbing up and down.

"Good night, Detective," she whispered, suddenly full of regret.


	3. Chapter 3: All Apologies

_Ricki Castle's loft…_

The clock read 2:42 a.m.

Ricki couldn't sleep, choosing instead to spend her night sitting in front of her laptop. A framed letter hung on the wall behind her desk – the first rejection letter she got, freshman year of college when she submitted her first manuscript for publication.

She nursed a beer – her fourth of the night. Two other bottles sat empty on the floor, her poker game with Patterson and Cannell long forgotten. Whatever excitement she had felt on her way to the precinct had given way to a feeling of guilt she hadn't felt in a long time. She's only meant to needle Detective Beckett a little bit, pull on her proverbial pigtails.

She hadn't meant to actually open any old wounds.

Her laptop's screen saver mocked her – _You should be writing_. It had to be her publisher's idea of a joke. As if the phone calls and emails and daily reminders weren't enough. Black Pawn wanted Derrick Storm's replacement, and they wanted it yesterday. Ricki wondered how much longer she could put this off. Part of her even wondered if a drastic career change was in order.

She wagged her finger over the thumbpad to kill the screen saver, downing the rest of her beer. Opening the search engine, her eyes narrowed and her fingers worked over the keyboard.

_Kate Beckett_.

Click.

There weren't many results, save for the occasional newspaper article about an arrest she had made. Shaking her head, chewing on her lip, Ricki removed the first name from the search field, playing on a hunch.

Click.

The first result brought Ricki's heart to a stop.

_Attorney murdered in alley – no arrests made_.

Her stomach dropped as her eyes scanned over the article, dated January 10, 1999. Johanna Beckett, who had worked as a civil rights attorney, was found murdered in an alley in what the newspaper called a random attack. Police had cited gang violence.

Returning to the search field, Ricki paused to squeeze her eyes shut. Why was she so emotional over this? She barely knew Kate Beckett, and it was pretty clear what the detective thought of her. Was this guilt over her earlier behavior?

_Johanna Beckett_.

Click.

A _New York Times_ article from two years after the murder, citing that there were still no leads and no suspects. There wasn't much beyond that, and Ricki felt her heart break. Detective Beckett lost her mother to a senseless murder, and there was no justice for it.

Ricki sank into her chair. She'd been a little too on the nose. Detective Beckett sacrificed whatever her life's dreams were to pursue justice for her mother, for her family. Her demeanor and the way she approached her job made perfect sense now, and the hurt in her eyes after Ricki shot off at the mouth – _again_ – bore into her mind's eye.

She had to see Kate again, if for no other reason than to apologize. Ricki knew Detective Beckett bristled at her presence, but she also knew she had to make this right, and if that apology wound up being the last time they saw each other, then so be it.

Standing, and gathering the empty beer bottles, Ricki crossed her office to throw the bottles away and reach into a large cardboard box tucked into the corner. She pulled out a copy of _Storm Fall_, hardcover, before returning to her desk.

Opening the front cover, Ricki grabbed a pen and started writing.

* * *

_The next day…_

So restless, was Ricki, that she woke up early – after maybe three hours of sleep – and snuck out of the loft to hit her favorite coffee shop. Alexis was of the age now that she could get ready for school on her own, and Ricki knew Alexis would notice her behavior and the bags under her eyes.

Her daughter would ask questions. Questions Ricki didn't feel like answering.

The author sipped at her coffee, staring at the newspaper splayed in front of her on the table, but not really taking in the words. A gift-wrapped box sat in her large purse, and whenever Ricki's mind drifted to what was inside, her heart rate quickened.

She took another sip, trying to focus on the heat of her coffee more than anything else. Why did she feel this way about someone she just met? Someone who, truth be told, couldn't be bothered with her?

Questions Alexis would've asked…Ricki didn't want to answer them then, and she didn't want to answer them now.

She noticed a presence emerge to her side, looking up to find a man in an expensive suit standing in front of her, a leather briefcase in his hand. His hair was white, and he had a rolled-up newspaper tucked under his left arm. He wore a sheepish smile, and Ricki wondered if she had a pen in her purse.

"Hi." She gave her best smile, silently thankful for the distraction.

"Um…hi." The man cringed and scratched at the back of his neck. "Look, miss, I'm sorry to bother you, but it's just…you look kind of familiar."

"You a fan of mystery novels?"

"Not really." The man cringed, taking the seat across from Ricki. "But my wife was." Ricki saw the wistful look in the man's eyes – eyes that were remarkably familiar to her. "I'm Jim."

"Ricki." Her smile faltered ever so slightly.

"Ricki Castle." He huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. "I knew it."

A silence fell over the pair for a few moments, Ricki sipping at her still-steaming mug. Jim cleared his throat and opened his briefcase. Ricki watched him pull something out of the briefcase, her eyes following as he slid it across the table.

It was a photograph. Of Ricki at a book signing, smiling with a fan. Her heart stopped again.

"Johanna loved your books." A sadness crept into Jim's voice, and Ricki swallowed hard, hoping the hurt and the guilt in her eyes weren't evident. She really didn't feel like telling Jim that she'd hurt his daughter's feelings the night before. "Katie does, too."

A tiny smile tugged at Ricki's mouth. _I knew it_…

"I remember reading about her." Ricki nodded once. Neutral. Expressing remorse and sympathy without revealing too much about herself. "I'm sorry."

Jim nodded, grabbing the photograph and placing it back in his briefcase. "You probably don't remember meeting her." Jim shrugged. "All the signings you've done over the years, all the thousands and thousands of fans…"

"I'm sorry." Ricki didn't know what else to say.

"I still have it." Jim smiled briefly. "The book you signed. _To Johanna – keep fighting the good fight_."

Ricki felt tears threatening to build, distracting herself with another sip of her coffee. Fans taking an interest in her work beyond simply enjoying the words was nothing new – and despite her public image, she treasured the fact that she could have that effect – but this one hit home in light of her recent behavior.

"Johanna liked reading your books, knowing there'd always be a just ending. Maybe not a happy ending, but a just one." Jim shook his head. "Katie will never admit it, but I think she found comfort in your books for the same reason."

Ricki nodded and bit her lip, trying to keep the emotion at bay. "I'm glad I could have that effect on someone."

Jim offered another sad smile before standing, grabbing his suitcase, and straightening his tie. "Well, I should get going. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Castle." He extended his right arm.

Ricki shook the hand with a sad smile of her own. "Please, call me Ricki."

Jim shook his head and chuckled as he turned and walked away, and Ricki heard him mutter, "Wait until Katie hears who I met today…" A wave of panic flashed over the author, and she tried to bury it by downing the rest of her coffee.

* * *

_NYPD's 12__th__ Precinct…_

Before leaving the coffee shop, Ricki discarded the newspaper, but not before noticing that Harrison Tisdale had been arrested in connection with three murders – including that of his sister Allison. Ricki smiled at that, but it lacked the usual self-satisfaction. Normally, she would make sure everyone knew the case had been solved because of her, but she just couldn't bring herself to boast like that.

At least, not until she made things right.

She took methodical steps once she stepped out of the elevator, silently glad that the bullpen was relatively empty save for Detective Beckett and a few uniforms. The captain's office was empty, the light out, and Ricki couldn't help but notice when one of the uniforms pointed in her direction, whispering to another uniform.

Kate was buried in paperwork, the crease of concentration on her forehead. A large black watch was on her left wrist, a ring dangling from a chain around her neck. Ricki stood by the chair to the side of the desk, the box tucked under her arm. Her heart thudded in her chest, and Ricki felt her knees wobbling.

Eventually, Detective Beckett registered the presence at her desk, glancing up before rolling her eyes, setting down her pen, and folding her arms. She leaned back in her chair, shaking her head and glancing at the elevator.

"Come here to gloat, Castle?"

"No." Ricki watched Beckett soften at her tone. "I…I'm here to apologize."

Beckett arched a brow and frowned a little. "For what?" She shrugged. "Other than being self-centered, egotistical, in the way…"

"For my behavior last night." Ricki cut in. "I was…out of line. I shouldn't have pried into your life like that. Whether I was off-base or not, I shouldn't have judged you that way." Ricki stood completely still, not wanting to betray her nerves. "I'm very, very sorry."

Before Beckett could respond, Ricki handed her the box. The detective took it with a quizzical look before setting it in her lap and carefully undoing the wrapping. She opened the box, her expression brightening somewhat when she saw the hardcover of _Storm Fall_.

"Thank you." Beckett tried not to smile, but one spread onto her lips anyway.

"Open the front cover."

With another questioning glare, Beckett did just that.

_Kate,_

_My sincerest apologies for not knowing my place and presuming things about your life. Please accept this as a token of my regret. You are a wonderful cop, and if I ever end up murdered, you're the one I want on my case._

_-Ricki_

"That's…" Beckett's brow furrowed. It seemed like the more often she saw the author, the harder it was to get a read on her. "…sweet."

Ricki extended her right arm, thinking back to the conversation she'd had with Jim earlier that morning. That would remain her little secret. She didn't want to risk ruining the moment, since it appeared Beckett was forgiving her.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Detective Beckett."

Backett shook the author's hand with a nod and a smile, cradling the hardcover against herself. "You too, Ms. Castle."

Ricki smirked and turned to leave the precinct. She pressed the button to the elevator before stuffing her hands in her pockets, chewing on her lip and unable to keep the image of Detective Beckett smiling out of her head. It was easily one of the most gorgeous smiles she had ever seen.

"Ricki."

The author turned on a dime, the look in her eyes entirely too hopeful.

Beckett bit her lip, something Ricki couldn't quite recognize in her eyes. "You wanna get a drink tonight, after I get off work?"

Ricki flashed Detective Beckett her first genuine smile. "Old Haunt, 8:00?"


	4. Chapter 4: Hypnotize

_**Author's Note: From this point forward is where things will start to deviate more from established canon. I appreciate those who are along for the ride so far, and urge everyone to keep reading (despite the fact that, yes, I am a maniac who currently has three on-going multi-chapter Castle fics, on top of a Buffyverse on-going fic, and a novel I'm trying to finish). Reviews are appreciated! Also, for those curious, my headcast for Ricki Castle is none other than Eliza Dushku, so there's that.**_

* * *

_The Old Haunt…_

Ricki's face lit up as soon as she saw Detective Beckett walk into the bar, and she downed her shot glass without breaking her gaze. Kate was wearing the same thing she was wearing at the precinct earlier that day, and though Ricki enjoyed this particular ensemble, she figured she would like anything the cop decided to wear.

Even if it was nothing. _Especially_ if it was nothing.

Ricki cleared her throat when the bartender refilled her shot glass, raising it to Detective Beckett when she joined her at the bar. Pointing at Kate, Ricki flagged down the bartender again. "Whatever she wants. On my tab."

Beckett nodded. "Beer. Whatever's on tap."

With the bartender off to fetch Beckett's drink, she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and gave Ricki a sideways glance over her hunched shoulder. This place was quieter than Kate had expected; just the din of conversation to keep them company.

"I see you started without me."

Ricki flashed a toothy grin and shrugged. "Hey, I got a reputation to uphold."

Beckett laughed in spite of herself, shaking her head. "Which one is that? Ricki Castle, the party animal or Ricki Castle, the serial sex fiend?"

Ricki arched her brows. "Wouldn't _you_ like to know, B?" She saw Beckett's face scrunch at the nickname, downing her shot and waving her hand. "Sorry. Beckett." The bartender returned to give Beckett her beer and fill Ricki's glass again, though the writer motioned to the bartender that this would be her last one.

Ricki wanted to drink, but she wanted to make sure she remembered this night.

"Let me ask you something, Detective." Ricki leaned against the bar, silently glad she changed out of her button-down and into a more form-fitting black t-shirt and jeans. It wasn't a look Ricki sported often – only when she was angling for a reaction. "Why'd you ask me out tonight?"

Beckett took a moment to sip at her beer, as if she were buying herself time to answer the question – and judging from the look on her face, that was exactly what she was doing. Ricki smirked to herself when she saw the detective's eyes flick sideways, down then up.

_Detective Beckett, are you checking me out?_

"To say thank you." Kate tried to keep things light, safe. "For your insight on the case. And for apologizing to me."

Ricki raised her glass in a toast, which Beckett reciprocated, before downing her shot with a hiss. "Hey, no big." She shrugged. "I'm just glad to see the right guy go to jail. And my publicist tells me the whole thing will only help book sales."

Beckett shot Ricki a look of disbelief. "You told your _publicist_?!"

"No!" Ricki put her hands up as if she were being held at gunpoint. "Paul read about it in the paper this morning. I swear!"

Beckett smirked, as if she'd pushed the exact button she wanted to, taking a long swig of her beer before twirling the mug in her hands. She cast another sideways glance at the writer, biting her lip.

"So my dad tells me he met you today."

Ricki was suddenly re-thinking the whole not-drinking-anymore-tonight thing. She nodded and sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Yeah, at the coffee shop."

Kate shook her head. "I hope he didn't embarrass me too bad."

"Nope." Ricki leaned in so she could lower her voice. Having to raise it a little over everyone else in the bar was making her throat start to hurt. "He told me about Johanna liking my books. He, uh…" Ricki looked down at the floor. "He showed me a picture she had taken with me at a book signing."

Beckett studied Ricki, noting the subtle shifts in her facial expression. "Is that why you apologized to me?"

Ricki shook her head. "I was gonna do that anyway. I actually had the box with me when he came up to my table." She sucked in a deep breath, reaching up to undo the ponytail and let her brown locks flow out over her shoulders. If Ricki didn't know any better, she could've sworn she heard Beckett gasp.

"Look…I know you're not that fond of me. You think I'm obnoxious, in the way, like a 9-year-old on a sugar rush. And most of the time…yeah, that's me. But…" Her brown eyes flickered downward. "I'm bored, Beckett. That's why _Storm Fall_ is my last Derrick Storm novel. But see, when I hear things like what Jim told me today, about how much my work meant to your mother – to _you_ – that has me wanting to write again." She shrugged. "I just don't know what yet."

Kate nursed her beer, letting Ricki go on her rant. She wanted to curse her father later for admitting to Beckett being a fan, but really, who was she kidding? Ricki had already pegged her as such during the interrogation.

And she was respectful and, frankly, in awe over the way her mother enjoyed her work, so Beckett couldn't really give her too hard a time for it, right?

"This watch is my father's." Beckett pointed at her wrist. "He took mom's death hard – probably harder than I did. He's been sober five years now. So…this is for the life I saved." She pulled at the chain around her neck, placing her thumb in the ring as her voice hitched. "And this is…for the life I lost."

Ricki wanted to reach over and give Detective Beckett a hug, to just squeeze her in her arms for having to shoulder that much burden, that much personal responsibility, over the years. She did, however, reach her hand across to Kate's, cupping it and fighting the urge to smile when the detective didn't pull away the hand.

Instead, Kate stared at Ricki's hand on hers before her eyes flicked up to the author's. It almost looked as if Ricki was hypnotized by Kate. It wasn't really anything new – Ricki had stolen glances or stared every chance she got, but there was something different about this gaze. It felt more genuine.

"So what about you, Castle?" Kate sucked in a deep breath to steel herself. "What skeletons do you have in _your_ closet?"

"You mean aside from two ex-husbands, one of whom just happens to also be my publisher?" There was that urge to start drinking again. "I don't have a father." She admitted, struggling to hold Detective Beckett's gaze, even as her hand was still clasped over Kate's. "Well, I _do_ – obviously – but I've never met him."

Beckett chewed on her lip. "I'm sorry…"

Ricki shrugged. "It's not so bad. Mother raised me fine, considering. And I've got Alexis."

Beckett cocked her head to the side. "Alexis…?"

"When you came to my book party the other night." Ricki reluctantly removed her hand from Beckett's, not wanting to seem overly anxious to touch her – even though she was. "The redhead sitting with me? That's my daughter."

"I didn't know you had any children."

"And here I thought you were a fan." Ricki teased before shaking her head. "She's from my first marriage. I had her while I was in college, actually, not that long after my first book got published." Another shrug. "Martin and I split when she was four, and it's been pretty much just me and her ever since."

"And where's Martin been?"

Ricki shook her head and stared at her fingers. Truth be told, she didn't miss him, but the fact that he was never around for her daughter was always a bit of a sore spot. Alexis didn't seem to mind – or if she did, she never said anything.

"L.A. Paris. Wherever the next gig is." Ricki glanced at the detective, surprised to find empathy in her eyes. "One time, Martin showed up out of the blue when Alexis was nine, wanted to pull her out of school and just…take her to Paris."

"What happened?"

"I told him no and kicked him out of my life. I wasn't about to let him just take my daughter and get her hopes up like that." She waved at the bartender, deciding she wanted another drink after all. "No parent's better than a bad parent."

"I'm sorry." This time, Beckett's hand rested on top of Ricki's, and before she could even think about it, she turned her hand over so their fingers interlocked. Their eyes met, and a hopeful smile crept onto Ricki's face.

"You're not wrong." Beckett stared at their interlocked hands. "About how I wasn't fond of you. Not at first. I mean…" She shook her head, slowly pulling her hand away, careful not to let Ricki think she was eager to break the contact.

"My first impression of you – as a person – wasn't very good." Beckett's eyes locked with Ricki's. "You were flippant about the victims and you spent half the interrogation prodding at me and flirting."

Ricki nodded. "And then my stunt last night…"

"I know you didn't mean anything by it." Beckett shrugged. "You were just being…_you_, I guess. But it did sting, and I appreciate that you apologized for it. Maybe you're not as bad as I thought."

A playful smile cracked onto Ricki's face. "Or maybe I am and I just hide it well."

Beckett huffed a laugh, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. "You just can't help yourself, can you?" She downed the rest of her beer with a sideways grin.

Emboldened – by either the alcohol or something else she couldn't quite place – Ricki sat up a little straighter with one of her knowing, smug grins, the kind that screamed _Yeah, I'm hot shit, and don't I know it._ "Not when I'm around you, Detective."

Beckett laughed, which was so not the reaction Ricki expected. She was half-expecting to be shot down or admonished, but she made Beckett laugh. It wasn't one of those _I can't believe this girl_ laughs with a head shake and an eyeroll; it was a genuine, honest-to-goodness laugh, and Ricki was struck by how Beckett's face lit up when she smiled.

Ricki chewed on her lip, thinking she would have to make Kate Beckett smile as often as possible from this point forward.

Beckett finished her beer, flashing Ricki another smile as she stood. "I'd love to stay and continue this little chat…" She threw a glance the writer's way that screamed _Believe me, I would love to_. "…but I'm on call in the morning, and I don't want a body dropping while I'm nursing a hangover."

Ricki swallowed the disappointment and nodded. "Of course, Detective."

Beckett leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Ricki's cheek, and the author felt like her stomach was doing back flips. She watched as Beckett straightened again, averting her gaze with a tiny grin on her face, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear again.

"Call me sometime, Castle."

Ricki was again left speechless – twice in as many days – watching with mouth agape as Beckett slipped through the crowd and walked out the door. The bartender arrived with the check, smirking at the look on Ricki's face.

"I take it she's good company?"

Ricki shook her head and grinned. "Extraordinary…"

* * *

_Ricki Castle's loft…_

Ricki was glad she hadn't drank any more than she did, because her head was clear enough – even at three in the morning – that she found herself writing for the first time in months. Light from her laptop bathed her face, piercing the pitch black that was otherwise her office. Her fingers tapped rapidly against the keys, biting her lip in concentration.

So engrossed in this new story, was Ricki, that she didn't notice when the door to her office opened. If it were possible, her fingers went even faster over the keyboard, the words flowing with ease.

She hadn't felt like this in a long, long while. Writing was easy again. Fun.

Martha leaned against the doorway, watching her daughter with a bemused smirk. She was thankful for the dark hiding the bags under her eyes. Not wanting to disturb Ricki, Martha waited for a break.

Finally, she got one.

"Now there's a sight for sore eyes." Martha grinned and pushed herself off the doorway. "What happened, kiddo? Another threat from George."

"No, mother." Ricki sat back with a shit-eating grin on her face, leaning back in her chair and clasping her hands together on the back of her head. "I've been…inspired."

The writer frowned, glancing at the clock. "What are you doing here so late?"

Martha waved dismissively. "The after party ran long. It was easier to just come here to crash for the night than go home." The redhead crossed to the back of Ricki's desk, placing a hand on her daughter's shoulder and glancing at the laptop.

"Soooo…do we have a replacement for Derrick Storm?"

"I hope so." Ricki lowered her arms and smiled up at Martha. "Mother, remember the case the police were working on? The murders that looked like my books?"

Martha blanched and nodded.

"Well…" A knowing smile played across the writer's face. "One of the detectives working the case, Detective Beckett, she…made quite the impression on me."

Martha arched her brows and placed a hand on her hip. "An impression."

Ignoring the inquisitive glare being sent her way, and the knowing tone with which Martha repeated her words, Ricki resumed writing, a sideways grin splayed across her face as word after word poured out onto the screen. She punched the period key as her grin broke out into a smile before scrolling up to the top of the page, turning the monitor to Martha.

"Mother…" Ricki stood and beamed with pride. "Say hello to Detective Nikki Heat."


	5. Chapter 5: In-Sync

Ricki Castle had a bounce in her step she hadn't had in a long while – so long, in fact, she couldn't remember the last time she felt this way. The phone call from Detective Beckett the night before had been a pleasant surprise – she hadn't even had a chance yet to work up the courage to honor Beckett's request to call _her_ yet.

And since when did Ricki have to work up the courage to call someone?

The elevator dinged, and Ricki stepped out into the bullpen at the 12th, nodding toward a cluster of uniforms huddled in the corner. One of them cast a confused glance her way, but Ricki just moseyed over in the direction of Beckett's desk, two cups of coffee in-hand.

"Good morning, Detective." Inwardly, Ricki cringed as soon as she said it, hating how cheery she sounded. Kate Beckett didn't seem to notice, though, giving the writer a polite smile and casting a glance at a couple empty desks across from her.

"Castle." Kate furrowed her brow at the coffee cup being handed to her, taking a sip before her eyes widened. "This—"

"Grande skim latte, two pumps sugar free vanilla." Ricki shrugged with a smile.

"But how did you—"

"I'm a writer." Ricki took the seat next to Beckett's desk. "It's my job to notice things."

Beckett smiled with another sip, shaking her head. Ricki must've noticed when they made a coffee run during the Tisdale case. The writer continued to surprise Beckett; just when she thought she had Ricki Castle figured out, things got switched up a little.

"Thanks for coming."

Ricki shrugged, trying her best to act nonchalant. "Hey, it was either this or stare at my laptop for hours on end. I can only watch that cursor blink so many times before I feel like it's starting to mock me."

That wasn't entirely true; in point of fact, she was already a quarter of the way through her new manuscript, a book tentatively called _Heat Wave_. She thought about telling Beckett – Nikki Heat was, after all, based on her – but it was fun keeping the secret for now. Besides, Beckett wanted help on a case, and if Ricki could add any insight, then…

Beckett stood, coffee in-hand as she directed Ricki to the murder board. "Our victim is a man named Douglass Bishop, found dead in the apartment of the Dyson family two days ago. Bishop was arrested once 10 years ago for drunk and disorderly, but other than that, he's clean."

Ricki sipped on her coffee. "Any connection to the Dyson family?"

"Nope. Never met 'em." Beckett shook her head. "The Dysons came home from vacation and found Bishop face-first in their daughter's bed."

Ricki blanched. "I bet she never wants to hear about Goldilocks ever again. Was Bishop a squatter?"

"That's what we thought at first." Beckett glanced to her right just in time to see Detectives Ryan and Esposito join the proceedings. Beckett tried to suppress a smirk when she saw Ryan's eyes light up upon seeing Ricki, and Esposito frowned in confusion.

"Ricki, meet Detectives Kevin Ryan and Javier Esposito." Beckett tried to keep her smile light, but she felt it tugging more on her features than she would like. "Guys, this is Ricki Castle."

Ryan grinned and shook Ricki's hand, while Esposito kept his suspicious glare.

"Nice to meet you." Ryan was surprisingly calm, given the look of wonder on his face. "I loved _Storm Fall_."

Esposito rolled his eyes.

Choosing to ignore the civilian, Esposito handed a manila folder to Beckett. "Mickey Carlson's alibi checks out."

Beckett frowned. "Anything on the third man?"

Esposito shook his head, watching as Ricki studied the murder board. He tapped Beckett on the shoulder, scrunching his face into a frown as he threw his thumb at the writer's direction, mouthing, _What is she doing here?_

Beckett rolled her eyes in response, tossing the folder on her desk and joining Ricki by the board. Both women cradled their right arm over their stomachs, each chewing on their left thumb. Their heads cocked to the side in unison.

Ricki pointed at one of the photographs in the upper right corner of the board. "This isn't the Dysons' place, is it?"

Beckett shook her head. "The Maitlans lived there. Mickey squatted there before."

Ricki cocked her head to the side again. "And this dumbwaiter in the corner. Where does that lead?"

Ryan joined the pair in front of the board. "There's an exotic pet store on the first floor of that building. That dumbwaiter leads just behind the store."

"There's also a bank next to the pet store." Esposito intervened. "We were thinking this was a bank heist gone wrong, and that the third man might've had something to do with Bishop's death."

Ricki frowned. "Bishop and Mickey were trying to rob a bank?"

Beckett shook her head. "Why would they need mountain climbing gear to rob a bank?" She nodded toward the murder board. "I don't see them fitting any money in the dumbwaiter, either."

Ryan shook his head. "Or ketamine, for that matter."

"But Mickey wasn't part of whatever went down." Esposito grabbed a mugshot Ricki hadn't yet seen, attaching it to the murder board. "He was at a homeless shelter the night of the murder. But Bishop was with this man, a guy named Anton Francis with a rap sheet as long as Beckett's legs."

Both Beckett and Ricki shot Esposito an angry glare, and the detective sank within himself.

"Anton the third man?"

Beckett shook her head. "Nope, just the second."

"But Mickey—"

"Alibi'd out."

"What I don't get…" Ricki folded her arms over her chest. "What's the ketamine for?"

The trio hadn't noticed Ryan leaving to answer his phone, but the detective hung up the receiver and joined them again at the murder board. "I may have an answer for that. Remember when the pet store owner said there was no break-in, even though the dumbwaiter had been opened?"

Beckett and Esposito nodded.

"What if the pet store was a front for something else?"

That got Beckett and Ricki's attention, and they both turned to look at Ryan.

"Noel du Preez, the owner, he's clean." Ryan read off his notepad. "But a few days ago, customs recorded him picking up a half-dozen African Gray Parrots, four baboon spiders, and two black-tailed pythons…all from South Africa."

Ricki frowned. "Black-tailed pythons? From South Africa?"

Ryan nodded. "Yeah, why?"

Ricki glanced at Beckett. "Black-tailed pythons, also known as Indian rock pythons, are not indigenous there. Why would they be coming from Africa?"

Esposito shook his head. "Why are we talking about some motherfucking snakes on a motherfucking plane?"

Ricki couldn't suppress her grin, her attention solely focused on Beckett as she approached the murder board again. It was almost as if Ryan and Esposito weren't even there. "I'm paid to think like a bad guy." Ricki stabbed her finger against one of the photos on the murder board. "A few fun facts about snakes: they're cold-blooded, they can swallow huge amounts, and they digest what they eat very slowly."

Beckett immediately picked up on the implication. "Perfect for smuggling!"

"It's happened before." Ricki turned to Beckett, stepping toward her. "If they came from South Africa…well, there are two things in abundance in South Africa: racial hatred and diamonds."

Esposito smirked and shook his head. "Smuggling diamonds in live snakes…"

Beckett grinned. "Mickey's attacker said there were millions at stake—"

"And the dumbwaiter leads to the pet store. That's why the Maitlans' trip _had_ to be this week. They knew the shipment was coming in. And then the ketamine—"

"Was to dope the snakes, so they could take them up the shaft without a fight. And then when we came to the store—"

"The owner couldn't say a word, otherwise he'd implicate himself in smuggling."

Beckett grabbed Ricki by the arms. "So, we find out who robbed him—"

"We find the third man!"

Feeling the adrenaline rush she always felt when she got a big break in a case, Beckett squeezed Ricki's arms and planted a quick kiss on her lips. Ignoring the quizzical glances from Ryan and Esposito, she turned to the duo. "Have uniforms pick up du Preez, bring him in."

Ricki was left speechless yet again, everything around her a blur. She had Kate Beckett on her lips, and it was the most intoxicating feeling in the world. No booze in the world could give her the buzz she had at the moment, and when she met the detective's gaze again, they both blushed.

"So, uh…" Beckett swallowed. "Thanks."

"Oh, you know…" Ricki was trying to be smug, but she felt far too flustered. "It's a gift."

"Maybe I should call you to help on cases more often."

"I'd like that." Ricki brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Or you could just call me whenever. Don't even need a reason."

Beckett smiled at that – a bright, true, toothy smile that sent the butterflies in Ricki's stomach all aflutter. The writer couldn't believe what she was feeling – partly because it had been so long since anyone made her feel this way, and partly because of the sheer randomness of how Detective Beckett wound up in her life.

As heinous as the murders staged after her books were, Ricki was strangely thankful for them, because without them, she wouldn't be standing in the precinct right now, sharing a moment with a woman with whom she was clearly infatuated.

Even better, Beckett seemed to have softened a bit in recent days. Ricki still wasn't sure what it meant, but she had her suspicions – after all, she could still taste the detective on her lips.

"Hey." Beckett grabbed her badge and her gun. "After we solve the case, what say you and I grab a bite. My treat. Ever been to Remy's?"

Ricki's face lit up. "Oh, those burgers…"

Beckett's face lit up as well, before her eyes rolled back in what Ricki read as mild seduction. "And those shakes…"

"Detective Beckett, I would be glad to have dinner with you."

"Great." Beckett turned with her notepad, heading for the interrogation room, but she stopped and glanced over her shoulder. "You wanna come watch the interrogation, Castle?"

It just so happened Ricki was about to write her first interrogation scene, so if nothing else, she could use the session to get material for the upcoming scene. But more than anything, she just wanted to watch Beckett in her element.

She would take any excuse to be around Kate Beckett she could get.


	6. Chapter 6: Egg Shells

_The break room…_

Watching Kate Beckett in the interrogation room was more thrilling than anything Ricki Castle had seen in the theater over the past couple years. Her 20-minute questioning of the exotic pet store owner filled the rest of Ricki's notepad, notes and observations that were definitely making their way into _Heat Wave_.

She poured herself a mug of coffee, taking a sip before scrunching her face in disgust and shaking her head. It tasted like a monkey had peed in battery acid, but it was caffeine, and even with the jolt she got whenever she was around the detective, Ricki needed the boost. She'd been so busy writing her new character that she hadn't gotten much sleep the past couple days.

Ricki kept sipping at her coffee, trying not to cringe, watching Beckett return to her desk. If the author was being entirely truthful, she was a little scared. She wasn't used to someone getting under her skin this way so soon. It wasn't even just the fact that Kate Beckett was physically attractive; if that was all it was, Ricki would've gone after her conquest and probably had another notch on her bed post by now.

No, this was different. This went deeper. Far deeper.

And it was simultaneously frightening and exhilarating.

The door to the break room opened, and Ricki watched as Detective Esposito walked in to pour himself a cup of coffee. His red tie hung loose around his neck, and he cast a sideways glance at Ricki before taking his first sip.

Clutching his mug in both hands, Esposito turned to face Ricki head-on, and she saw his shoulders expand when he sucked in a deep breath. She couldn't read the expression on his face, but she saw the suspicion in his eyes as he sat across from her.

"Ricki Castle." His eyes flickered down, then back up. "How nice of you to swoop in and save the day on _our_ case."

Ricki squinted. Overprotective brother figure? Jilted lover? Both were plausible. Still, much as she didn't appreciate Detective Esposito giving her the stink eye without prior provocation, she decided to play nice – for now.

"Beckett called and asked me to come." The writer shrugged. "I was happy to do her a favor."

The detective's eyebrows shot up. "Was that kiss a favor too?"

Ricki smiled and chewed on her lower lip. It must've been a good half hour to 45 minutes since Detective Beckett swiftly pressed her lips against Castle's, and she swore she could still taste her. A shiver ran through the writer and her eyes fluttered closed.

Esposito cleared his throat, staring at Ricki.

She couldn't help but smirk, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. "This the part where you tell me you're watching me? Where if I do anything to hurt Detective Beckett, you'll go all Special Forces on me?"

"I know your reputation." Esposito took another sip of coffee. "I read Page Six."

"Yes, let's believe everything that rag prints."

Deciding she'd lost her taste for the awful coffee, Ricki stood and poured the rest of her mug down the drain. She stretched and walked past Esposito, stopping to lean in and whisper in his ear. "Kate's a big girl, Javier. And I don't think she'd care much for you playing big brother behind her back."

Leaving the break room, Ricki's expression instantly brightened when her eyes met Beckett's. Kate stood when Ricki got to the desk, already extending her arm for a handshake. Ricki took that handshake, letting her thumb run along Beckett's hand before she leaned in for a kiss on the cheek.

She wanted more, but this would do for now.

"So…" Ricki smiled. "I'll see you tonight?"

Beckett smiled and stared at the floor, twirling a strand of hair. "Can't wait."

"Neither can I." Ricki leaned in again, tossing a thumb over her shoulder. "In the meantime, try to keep your dog on his leash, hm?"

Beckett frowned in confusion as Ricki walked to the elevator, before understanding – and annoyance – washed over her features when she saw Esposito standing in the doorway to the break room, arms crossed over his chest.

"Hey, Espo." She could barely keep the anger out of her voice. "Don't you have paperwork to file?"

"Nah, that's Ryan."

"Not anymore, it's not." She thrust a stuffed manila folder against his chest. "Consider this your warning. Back off of Castle."

* * *

_Ricki Castle's loft…_

Ricki's already-good mood brightened even more when she walked into her loft and found Martha and Alexis huddled together at the island in the kitchen, laughing over something as they ate off of a plate of sliced fruit.

The writer tossed her coat over the rail of the staircase, joining mother and daughter before popping a strawberry into her mouth. "I didn't do it."

"Ah, Rebecca!"

"That's not my name, mother…"

"I don't care what some form downtown says." Martha waved her hands in an overly dramatic fashion. It really felt sometimes like she lived her entire life as if she were on stage. "I gave you that name, so that's what you'll always be."

Alexis gave her mother one of those smiles that crinkled the edges of her eyes, leaning forward on the surface of the island. "How was seeing Detective Beckett?"

Both Martha and Alexis gave Ricki a knowing look.

Ricki popped another strawberry in her mouth, sighing and glancing at the ceiling for effect. "It was…nice."

Martha looked dumbfounded. "Nice?" She shook her head. "Rebecca, you have been on the _New York Times_ bestseller list 21 times now. Surely you can come up with something better than nice."

Alexis cocked her head to the side. "Someone's smitten…"

Ricki arched her brows, leaning toward her daughter. "You're not even in high school yet, pumpkin. What would you know about being smitten?"

"I can see it on your face." Alexis beamed.

"Alright, you got me." Ricki feigned surrender, moving to grab a handful of white grapes. "I don't know what it is, but Kate…"

Martha laughed. "Oh, lord, you used her first name." She nudged Alexis' elbow. "This _is_ serious."

"First name _and_ a book character?" Alexis giggled. "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear my mother had a crush."

"Rebecca, darling, have you told her about Nikki Heat?"

Ricki shook her head, snatching a watermelon cube and devouring it before crossing to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. "Nope. Part of me wants to wait until the book is published, so I can surprise her."

Alexis cringed. "Bad idea, mom."

Ricki frowned. "Why?"

"Rebecca…" Martha placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "This really is the sort of thing you should clear with her before the book goes to print. Hell, you should've cleared it with her before you even started writing, but you never have been one to take the easy road."

"Mother—"

"To say nothing of the fact that life is probably hard enough for her at the precinct. A beautiful woman like her in a male-dominated profession…she probably has to deal with a lot of brutish, disgusting behavior, and I'm afraid Nikki Heat would give the brutes more ammunition."

Ricki chewed on Martha's words as much as she chewed on the cantaloupe in her mouth. Her mother was right. Ricki hadn't really thought of it that way. She gave Martha a smile and a nod, popping another grape into her mouth.

"I'll tell her tonight." Ricki shrugged. "If she doesn't want me to do it, I'll write something else. I'm inspired now; I'm sure I'll think of something."

Alexis arched her brows. "Tonight?"

"We're going out to dinner." Ricki beamed. Not even her confrontation with Detective Esposito could ruin the day for her because come that evening, she'd be sharing burgers and shakes with the NYPD's prettiest detective.

"Mom's got a date!" Alexis brightened, then instantly frowned. "Shouldn't we be getting excited over the prospect of _me_ dating by this point?"

"If by excited, you mean frightened, then yes." Ricki kissed the top of Alexis' head.

* * *

_Remy's…_

Ricki was already seated, and she had taken particular care with her appearance – more so than usual. She wore a black button-down with a royal blue tie, the knot resting under head neck large. A small blazer matched the shirt, and Ricki sported a pair of dark skinny jeans tucked into her favorite pair of black knee-high boots.

She wore her hair down, the brown locks splayed out over her shoulders.

Ricki felt her heart skip a beat with Detective Beckett came into view, wearing the same outfit she'd had on earlier in the day at the precinct. Her hair was flared out at the sides, and Ricki couldn't keep the smile off of her face. Even when she was coming straight from the precinct, Kate was stunning.

Kate grinned and glanced at the sidewalk before approaching the table. "I suddenly feel underdressed."

Ricki was tempted to make a snide remark, but bit her tongue. As excited as she was to see Kate – especially to see her outside of the precinct, Ricki was still walking on proverbial egg shells. She really didn't want to screw this up, so she did the one thing that was most against her nature: she kept her mouth shut.

"I think you look lovely, Detective."

Kate gave an embarrassed smile before taking a seat across from Ricki, eventually lifting her eyes and smiling more broadly when she saw the look in the writer's blue orbs. They took the time to place their orders, both having memorized the menu to the point they didn't even need to look at it.

With the food ordered, Kate sighed. "Hey, listen, Castle…I'm sorry about Javi."

"Hey, it's no big." Ricki shrugged. "I'm a civilian and he obviously cares about you."

Kate frowned. "Oh, but he and I aren't—"

"I know." Ricki gave a reassuring smile. "He means well."

A devilish smile played across Beckett's face. "He's also staying late doing paperwork."

Ricki's smile broadened. "Well played, Detective."

"So du Preez talked." A smile of accomplishment crept onto Beckett's face, and briefly, Ricki found herself wishing she could see Beckett look that way about her mother's case. She shook off that thought, though, not wanting the evening to be soured. "Told us everything he knew, and we made the arrest."

Their milkshakes were ready by this point, and Ricki raised hers in a toast, a broad smile on her face. She was smiling so much around Beckett that her cheeks were starting to hurt, but she couldn't help herself.

"Listen, Beckett…" Ricki cleared her throat. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh, no." Beckett cringed. "Ryan didn't embarrass himself in front of you, did he?"

Ricki laughed. "No. It's…" She sighed. Why did words escape her when she needed them most? The butterflies were violently fluttering in her stomach. She could feel the sweat in her palms. "I've started working on a new book."

Beckett visibly brightened. "That's great, Castle. A replacement for Storm?"

"I hope so."

"Well…" Beckett leaned forward on her elbows, grinning and ignoring the food as it was placed on the table between the pair. She didn't ignore it for long, though, stealing a French fry from Ricki's tray. "Tell me."

"It's a character I'm basing on you, actually." No sense in beating around the bush – and though Beckett looked confused, it was better than the reaction Ricki feared she might get. Sitting up, she felt emboldened. "A smart, savvy, good-looking detective."

Beckett tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, biting her lip. A smile played at her lips, and she was trying to hide it – and not succeeding.

"That's…actually sort of flattering, Castle. What's her name?"

"Nikki Heat."

The smile disappeared. "Castle."

"Think about the title possibilities. _Heat Wave. Deadly Heat. Rising Heat_…"

"Castle." Beckett shook her head. "Is this a mystery novel or a late-night Cinemax feature?"

_Still better than _Unholy Storm…

"You don't like it." Ricki swallowed, tugging on the straw in her strawberry milkshake. It looked like she would have to go back to the proverbial drawing board, come with something else to write. She had vague outlines of ideas, but nothing spoke to her like Detective Beck—Nikki Heat did.

Beckett broke into a large smile, shaking her head and giggling. "I'm just busting you balls, Castle. Go on, keep writing it. I only have one request."

Ricki's eyebrows arched.

"I get to read it before it goes to print."

Ricki grinned through the first bite of her burger. "Done." She'd have to pull some strings – and likely piss off George in the process – but considering how icy things were between them already, Ricki didn't really care about ruffling his feathers.

Hell, if anything, she kind of enjoyed it.

"You're not worried about the male officers harassing you?"

Beckett shrugged. "Been dealing with that since I was in the Academy. Besides…" She bit into her burger. "Esposito served three tours in Iraq. If I can handle _him_, then I don't think anyone else at the 12th is gonna be that much of a problem."

The pair ate the rest of their food in comfortable silence, stealing the occasional glance. Ricki paid the bill and they got to-go cups for what was left of their shakes, and Ricki left a sizeable tip before they wandered down the sidewalk, their hands teasingly close as they alternated sips of their milkshakes.

"Castle." Beckett stopped. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Have you ever been with a woman?"

_Several_. Ricki didn't say that, though, because she knew how that would sound. It was true, but she didn't want to give Beckett the same skeevy, perverted vibe she got when they first met days before. So the author nodded and twirled the straw in her shake. "Yeah." She gave Beckett a tentative smile. "I'm bisexual."

Beckett nodded in understanding and Ricki felt a wave of disappointment wash over her. The pair started walking again, and Ricki chewed on her lower lip, unsure of how to ask the question she desperately wanted answered.

"I'm guessing this is the part where you tell me you're straight…?"

A knowing smile played across Beckett's lips. "I kissed you earlier today, didn't I?" Having finished her milkshake, Beckett disposed of the cup. "I've been straight for most of my life, yeah. But…" She shook her head. "I'm not even sure how to explain it."

Ricki stopped and snaked her fingers into Beckett's, giving her hand a squeeze. "Maybe you don't have to." She shrugged. "Maybe we're not supposed to always have all the answers. Maybe we're just supposed to live with the questions and…find our way."

Beckett smiled at that. "I do know one thing." She cocked her head to the side. "I like you."

Ricki smiled in return. "I like you, too, Detective Beckett."

Beckett stepped in front of Ricki, trailing her fingers along the author's jaw. Something flashed in her eyes, hints of gold mixing with the green. Beckett then leaned in, pressing her lips against Ricki's, taking her time now, letting the contact linger for several seconds as Ricki's hand roamed up to Beckett's shoulders.

Ricki heard herself whimper when their lips finally parted.

"Call me Kate."


	7. Chapter 7: Next Level

_**Author's Note: Wow...no love for Chapter 6? Damn, I thought that would be a popular one. Ah well...sooner or later this fic's gotta take off, right?**_

* * *

_Captain Montgomery's office…_

Roy Montgomery liked to give his detectives leeway in the field. Not that he wasn't a stickler for rules and regulations – as a former detective himself – but he understood that sometimes, the work dictated an outside approach. Something not taught at the Academy.

But this? He wasn't quite sure how he felt about this.

He watched as Detective Beckett walked into his office, a woman roughly her height with brown hair pulled back into a ponytail joining her. He instantly recognized the other woman and couldn't help but smirk, sitting up in his chair and straightening his tie.

"Detective."

"Sir." Beckett stopped in front of his desk, glancing sideways. "Ricki, this is our captain, Roy Montgomery. Captain, this is—"

"I know who you are, Ms. Castle." Montgomery stood to shake Ricki's hand – did he see Detective Beckett blush? "Thanks to Evelyn, we have an entire row on our bookshelf that's nothing but your books."

Ricki smiled and ducked her head, shaking the captain's hand. "Thank you, sir. And please, call me Ricki. Ms. Castle is my mother."

Montgomery smirked and returned to his seat. "Forgive me for my ignorance, Detective, but I'm not really sure what you were asking me before. Care to run it by me again?"

Beckett and Ricki exchanged a glance before the author took a seat in the sofa across from Montgomery's desk. Beckett began pacing back and forth, which Ricki figured she only did when she was nervous.

"Sir…" She shook her head. "Ricki wants to start shadowing me, act as an unofficial consultant to the NYPD."

"I see." Montgomery cocked his head to the side. "Why?"

"Book research." Which was actually true. Partially. "I'm starting a new series of novels featuring a homicide detective, and I want to make sure they're as authentic as possible."

Montgomery's eyebrows arched. "And you want to follow Detective Beckett."

Ricki nodded.

"And what do you think, Detective?"

"I think…" Beckett paused, casting a sideways glance at Ricki and trying to fight back the smile threatening the corners of her mouth. "I think Ricki could be a valuable asset. She's helped out in two of our cases so far, and both times, her input helped lead us to the killer."

"The Tisdale and Bishop cases." Montgomery folded his arms across his chest. "The mayor has already signed off on the idea – I guess it pays to have friends in high places. But I need you both to understand the gravity of this. Castle, you're a civilian. You have no formal police training. Hell, for all I know, you've never fired a gun."

Ricki and Beckett exchanged another glance, and the author sucked in a deep breath to steel herself for the "no" she had been expecting since hatching the idea the night before. She had hoped for a yes, but Ricki would've been lying if she said she had expected one.

"I don't give a damn what the mayor says." Ricki flinched when Montgomery spoke. "But…the fact that Detective Beckett vouches for you means something." He smiled and rose from his chair, crossing to the front of the desk and unbuttoning his blazer. "Ricki, you may not know it yet, but you're actually in the presence of my greatest detective. Hard-working. Tenacious. If you're gonna follow anyone in this building, I can't think of anyone better."

Beckett's ears burned and her cheeks turned red. "Thank you, sir."

"I will agree to this arrangement on two conditions." Montgomery straightened. "One, you stay out of the way and do whatever Detective Beckett or anyone else tells you at all times. I can't have a civilian being killed in the line of duty."

Ricki nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Two." Montgomery couldn't hide his smile, even if he tried. "Evelyn's birthday is coming up, and I think a personally-signed copy of _Storm Fall_ would make a great gift."

Ricki smiled and nodded again. "I think I can handle that."

* * *

_The desks of Detectives Ryan and Esposito…_

Detective Esposito stared through the blinds at the meeting going on in Captain Montgomery's office, shaking his head with a sneer. His badge hung around his neck for everyone in the precinct to see; whereas the other cops either wore it on their hip or were more conspicuous about it, Esposito made sure everyone knew he was a cop.

"I don't like this, bro."

Detective Ryan barely glanced up from the paperwork he was filling out, frowning at his partner. "Yeah, you've made that pretty clear, Javi."

"Come on, man. A civilian? Playing cop cause she's got some crush?!" He shook his head and his nostrils flared. "I got better things to do than babysit some writer while we're on a stakeout or handling a hostage situation."

Ryan dropped his pen. "Dude, what is your problem?"

"Oh, I forgot, I'm dealing with her second biggest fan in this building." Esposito scoffed. "What would Jenny think, seeing you ogling Ricki like that?"

Ryan shrugged. "She'd be right there with me. She loves those books probably more than I do."

Esposito shook his head. "We're around death every single day. Last thing I wanna do is go home and read about more of it."

"So that's why you've got this vendetta against Castle?"

Esposito blinked, taken aback. "…No."

Ryan leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "Then what is it, Javi? You playing the overprotective big brother? Or is this about feelings you never properly dealt with?"

"This has nothing to do with that!"

Ryan's eyebrows arched. "Awful defensive there, Detective."

Esposito shrugged and shook his head, staring through the blinds again. "I know what she's like. I just don't wanna see Beckett get hurt."

"Javi…" Ryan sighed. "Of everyone in this precinct, who do you think can handle herself better than anyone else?" He glanced into the captain's office, leaning in and lowering his voice. "Look, I'm not thrilled about a civilian tagging along, either. But we've solved two cases because of Castle, and if Montgomery gives the okay, then there's nothing we can do about it."

* * *

_The Old Haunt…_

"I gotta say…" Ricki smiled as their beer bottles clinked together. "I didn't expect Montgomery to say yes."

"Are you kidding me?" Beckett smirked, taking a swig. "You should've felt how sweaty my palms were. I thought he was gonna read us both the riot act."

"Listen…" Ricki reached across the table to run her fingers along the palm of Beckett's hand, only to beam when the detective grabbed her hand and their fingers interlocked. "Thanks for letting me do this. I would've completely understood if you said no."

"Well…" A teasing grin etched onto Beckett's face. "If you're gonna be basing a character on me, I want you to get it right."

The pair laughed and squeezed each other's hands as Ricki finished her beer. She pushed the bottle to the side, taking in the sight of the detective sitting across from her. Even in the dimly-lit bar, she could make out the hints of gold in her eyes, and Ricki still could not get over the way her hair flared out at the ends.

It was adorable.

"Just…promise me something." Beckett's face turned serious, and she tightened her grip on Ricki's hand. "Don't go off trying to be a hero. You stick behind me, you do as you're told, and you stay safe, alright?"

"Of course." Ricki squeezed Beckett's hand. "I promise."

"Good. Cause I really don't feel like having to break that news to your mother or daughter." Beckett sighed. "It's one thing if it happens to me, and they have to tell my dad."

"Nothing's gonna happen, Kate. I'll be fine."

"Speaking of…" Beckett's lips curled into a smile again, and she ducked her head the way she always did when she felt her cheeks going flush. Ricki smiled, thinking it was another thing she could add to her _Things About Kate That Are Adorable_ list. "When do I get to meet Martha and Alexis?"

Ricki coughed as she took a sip, and Beckett laughed. The writer took a few moments to compose herself, dabbing a napkin over her lips to make sure she wasn't wearing her own beer. "You, uh…you wanna meet my family already?"

"It's only fair, Castle," Beckett teased with a wide grin. "You _did_ meet my dad, after all."

"Fair point." Ricki took another swig. "Alright then. How about you come over to the loft tomorrow night and have dinner with us?"

Beckett's smile grew. "I'd like that."

Beckett's phone vibrated against the table, interrupting the moment. They released each other's hands with a simultaneous sigh, and Ricki downed the rest of her beer as the detective placed the phone to her ear.

"Beckett." She nodded, locking eyes with Ricki. "Got it." Hanging up, Beckett grinned. "You ready for your first case as an NYPD consultant, Castle?"

Ricki couldn't help herself; she was practically beaming. "Lead the way, Detective Beckett."

* * *

_Downtown…_

Ricki turned her head as soon as she and Detective Beckett walked into the apartment. The smell wasn't nearly as bad as she had expected – though the writer supposed there was something to be said for the body not starting to rot yet – but the sight…she wasn't prepared for that.

She turned her back to the body, bloody on the floor. Ricki covered her face with her left hand, taking in a deep breath as she felt a hand on her left shoulder. She glanced at Beckett and felt her cheeks burn, shaking her head.

"You alright, Castle?"

"Yeah." She sucked in a deep breath. She wasn't about to blow chunks at the crime scene, especially with Detectives Ryan and Esposito already here. Not the first impression she wanted to leave with her new pseudo-partners. "Just…it's a little different when you see 'em up close."

"Yeah, it is." Beckett gave Ricki's shoulder a squeeze before turning to Esposito. "What do we have?"

"Multiple stab wounds." Esposito read from his notepad, never once looking up. "Apartment belonged to a man named Jack Coonan."

Beckett frowned. "Coonan?"

Ryan joined Esposito with a sigh, cringing at the sight of the body. "Yeah, rumored to be an enforcer for the Westies."

Ricki frowned. "Westies?"

Ryan shrugged. "Irish mob."

Beckett nodded toward the body. "Is this Coonan?"

"Won't know for sure until I get him back to the lab." Lanie Parish brushed past Beckett, stopping to glance at Ricki over by the television and giving the detective a knowing smile. She ignored Beckett's eye roll. "But if I had to guess? I'd say the mob's down a man."

Beckett nodded, kneeling by the body. "I don't see any entry wounds."

Lanie sighed. "It's cause of all the blood. This was a messy one, Kate. Let me get him cleaned up and on my slab. I'll have a lot more for you then."

Beckett nodded and rose again, crossing to the far end of the living room and making sure her heels didn't step in any of the blood spatter. She hated the fact that a body dropped while she was out with Ricki – not only because it took time away from their date, but because she had to come to a crime scene all dressed up.

Her feet were _killing_ her.

"You sure you're alright, Castle? You're looking a little green."

Ricki shrugged. "It'll pass." She looked down at the TV stand, frowning. "Johnny Vong?" She shook her head. "What's an Irish mob enforcer doing watching videos about get-rich-quick schemes?"

Beckett shot Ricki a confused glance before her eyes followed, seeing a DVD case next to the TV, an Asian man with a plastic smile and a three-piece suit giving two thumbs up on the cover. Since she was wearing gloves, Beckett grabbed the case. "Hey, Ryan."

Ryan approached with an evidence bag, holding it open as Beckett slipped the case into it.

Ricki frowned at the sight. "You think there might be something important on there?"

"Probably not." Beckett took off her gloves. "But aside from the blood, there's no other physical evidence here. It's a needle-in-a-haystack sort of thing. Happens more often in this job than I'd like."

Ricki swallowed hard and closed her eyes. Beckett saw this and slipped her arm around the writer's, calling over her shoulder to Ryan and Esposito. "Canvass the other apartments, see if anyone saw or heard anything. And let me know if CSU finds anything. Castle and I will contact next-of-kin."

Beckett led Ricki out of the apartment, before the writer dropped to her knees and proceeded to vomit all over the hallway carpet. Beckett cringed and kept Ricki's ponytail out of the way, waiting for the heaving and the retching to stop before crouching beside her and rubbing her back.

Ricki wiped her mouth with a cringe, catching her breath. "Sorry…"

Beckett shrugged. "I lost count of how many times I got sick over a body my first year in Homicide." She gently helped Ricki back to her feet, taking the author's hand and giving it a squeeze. "But hey, at least you didn't puke _on_ the body."

Ricki cringed again. "That would've been embarrassing."

"You have no idea…"


	8. Chapter 8: Out of Nowhere

_Downtown…_

Despite not having slept any the previous night – kept awake by the all-too-vivid sight of Jack Coonan's bloody corpse – Ricki Castle felt a surge of adrenaline as she and Detective Beckett left Dick Coonan's office. She walked in-step with the detective, her usual cup of coffee in her grasp.

"Am I the only one who got a bad vibe off Dick?"

Detective Beckett cast a sideways glance, sipping at her own coffee. "What do you mean?"

Ricki stopped, turning to face Beckett – and nearly getting lost in her eyes. A smile tugged at the writer's lips, but she cleared her throat and bought herself a few more seconds with a sip of coffee. "Okay, first of all? Smug doesn't even begin to cover it. Secondly? Did you see the way he reacted when we told him his brother was dead? He barely even flinched!"

Beckett shrugged. "People react to devastating news differently, Castle. And maybe Dick and Jack weren't all that close. I mean…one's a lawyer, the other was a mob enforcer. I don't see them spending Thanksgiving together exchanging pleasantries."

"Maybe…" Ricki tossed her empty cup into a nearby trash can once the duo were back outside, wandering the sidewalk en route back to the precinct. "But Martin and I can't stand each other, but if someone knocked on my door and told me he was dead, I'd give a little more than a plastic smile and a 'That's too bad'."

"You're not wrong." Beckett sighed. "But until we get something concrete…"

Almost as if on-cue, Beckett's phone rang. She glanced at the screen and smiled. "It's Lanie. I bet she got something." Answering the call, Beckett made sure the phone was on speaker. "Beckett."

"Girl, where are you?" The digitized voice was strained and cracked.

Beckett and Ricki frowned. "We're only a few blocks away, Lanie. What's up?"

"Get here as soon as you can, Kate. There's something you need to see."

The line went dead.

* * *

_The precinct…_

As soon as Beckett and Castle got back to the precinct, Lanie led them into a conference room, where an older gentleman wearing a gray suit with matching tie sat with a stuffed manila folder in front of him. He stood when the pair entered the room, unbuttoning his jacket.

"Clark Murray." He introduced, shaking both Beckett and Castle's hands.

Beckett gave Lanie a confused look, and Lanie nodded. "Dr. Murray is a retired ME, worked with the NYPD for 25 years."

"He even helped me several year ago with some research for _Unholy Storm_." Ricki smiled. "Good to see you again, Doctor."

"I wish I could say the same." Dr. Murray sat with a sigh, and as Beckett and Ricki sat across from him, they exchanged glances and frowns. A sense of dread was starting to overtake the room, and it only got worse when the door opened and Beckett saw Captain Montgomery walk in.

He nodded once to Beckett before taking the seat next to Dr. Murray.

Beckett could barely contain the fear. "Lanie, what-?"

"When I cleaned Jack Coonan's body, I studied the stab wounds." As Lanie spoke, Dr. Murray produced a series of photographs from the folder, passing them around the table. Ricki made it a point not to look at them, but by the time Jack's photo got to Beckett, she gasped and her heart skipped a beat.

"They looked familiar, but I couldn't be sure, so I called Dr. Murray for a consult." Lanie reached out and cupped Beckett's hand into hers. "I wanted to make sure before I told you anything."

Ricki couldn't help herself, glancing at the photo in front of Beckett. "I don't understand…they just look like random stab wounds."

"They're supposed to look that way." Dr. Murray cleared his throat. "We're looking at the work of a professional, probably a contract killer, whose methods are used to make it look like a random stabbing to throw investigators off the trail."

Ricki's eyes flickered from the retired ME to Beckett, and the sadness she saw in the detective's eyes made her heart skip a beat. Ricki swallowed, feeling nauseous all over again, tentatively snaking her hand out to grab Beckett's, giving it a soft squeeze.

"Kate…?"

Beckett lifted her gaze, meeting Ricki's eyes. She sucked in a deep breath, shaking her head and sliding the photograph back across the table. "These are the same stab wounds my mom had."

Dr. Clark put the photo back in the folder. "Only one wound is needed to kill. The rest are just for show. There are five murders on file fitting this M.O., including that of Johanna Beckett."

Beckett flinched when Dr. Clark said her mother's name, and Ricki tightened her grip on the detective's hand. She glanced at Montgomery, who had a look on his face she couldn't quite place – then again, she was so stuck on the sight of Kate with tears in her eyes, a sadness no one like her should ever have to experience – that Ricki wasn't exactly thinking straight.

"What are we saying?" Ricki shook her head. "That whoever killed Jack Coonan also killed Beckett's mom?"

Lanie nodded. "And others."

Montgomery stood, as did Dr. Murray. The two men shook hands and the retired ME nodded before he and Lanie left the room in silence. Lanie squeezed Beckett's shoulder on her way out, and the detective gave a sad smile as thanks.

Once the door closed, Montgomery locked it and shuttered the blinds.

Ricki shook her head. "You're taking her off the case, aren't you?"

"No." Both Ricki and Beckett frowned in confusion at the admission. "I know you, Beckett. I know Johanna's murder is what made you become a cop. Remember how we met?"

Beckett nodded, her eyes fixated on the table, her hand still clasped in Ricki's.

"I pull you off this case, you'll just run even faster toward it." Montgomery shook his head. "At least this way, I can keep an eye on you, make sure you don't fall too deep down the rabbit hole." He stared at the conjoined hands on the table. "Ricki, you sure you still want to shadow Detective Beckett? This may wind up being more than you bargained for."

Ricki never once tore her gaze from Beckett. "I'm not going anywhere, Roy."

Beckett squeezed Ricki's hand in reply, and the writer felt her pulse quicken.

Montgomery smiled and shook his head, as if he knew that was going to be Ricki's answer. He'd known the writer for little more than a day, and he could already tell this was about something deeper than just conducting book research. The evidence was practically right there on the table, but more than anything, he saw it in the way the two looked at each other.

If nothing else, he hoped they could survive what was to come.

"Fine. But do me a favor, Detective. Go home."

Beckett shot an angry glare at her boss. "Sir…"

"Ryan and Esposito are working the Vong angle as we speak. And unless and until we find a connection there, there's not much else you can do. You've had a hard day already, Detective. Go. Try to get some rest and start fresh tomorrow."

Beckett opened her mouth to speak.

"That's an order, Detective."

Montgomery left the conference room as Ricki scooted her chair closer to Beckett's. Their hands were still clasped together, even though Ricki's palm was starting to sweat. Ricki leaned in and placed a tentative kiss on top of Beckett's head.

"I'm sorry, Castle…"

Ricki frowned. "For what?"

"For dragging you into this." Beckett shook her head, her free hand tugging on the chain around her neck. "Not sure this is what you had in mind when you decided to shadow me, leaping into my mom's murder."

"You heard what I told Roy." Ricki squeezed her hand again. "I'm not going anywhere."

Beckett took a deep breath and blinked rapidly, trying to stem the tears burning in her eyes. She gave Ricki's a hand a squeeze before reluctantly letting go and pushing herself out of her chair. "Ricki…look, I know we said we'd have dinner with your folks tonight, but…do you mind if we don't?"

"No." Ricki shook her head. "No, I get it."

"Good." Beckett sighed. "Because there's something I wanna show you."

* * *

_Beckett's apartment…_

Ricki had imagined being led into Beckett's place several times in the week-plus since they met, but this definitely hadn't been how she envisioned it. Not necessarily the apartment itself – though the décor definitely screamed _Beckett_ – but the circumstances. She barely had time to peel off her coat before Beckett led her into a room near the back of the apartment.

Beckett stopped with a sigh, and Ricki could see the tension in her shoulders. At a loss for what else to do, the writer stepped forward and placed her hands on the detective's shoulders and kissed her temple.

"Hey…whatever it is, you can trust me. Okay?"

Beckett nodded with a sigh, glancing over her shoulder and giving Ricki a sad smile. She stepped out of Ricki's hands and used both hands to pull open the shutters, revealing what Ricki could only describe as the white board at the precinct on steroids.

Ricki took everything in, from the photograph of Johanna standing in front of the American and New York flags, to pictures of Johanna's lifeless body in an alley, to dates and names and question marks and all manner of other things that didn't make much sense.

Even as she was in awe, Ricki felt her heart breaking.

"Kate…"

"This is everything I have on my mom's murder." Beckett stood up a little straighter, as if her posture would hide the pain evident in her voice. Jack Coonan's murder was opening up old wounds, wounds Ricki didn't like seeing re-opened. She stayed close to Beckett, studying everything on that wall.

"The police investigation didn't go very far." Beckett shook her head. "Detective Raglan worked the case, called it gang violence."

Ricki frowned. "And that was that?"

Beckett nodded and sniffled. "Not one break in almost ten years." She glanced at Ricki, tears in her eyes. "Until now."

Ricki stepped in front of Beckett, her hands on the detective's shoulders. "Hey…I will do whatever you want. Anything you need. Anything at all. Even if it's nothing."

A tear fell from Beckett's eye and she smiled, leaning in to Ricki's touch when the writer's thumb brushed away the tear. Ricki stepped closer to Beckett and their eyes met, for what felt like the thousandth time that day, before Beckett leaned in, closed her eyes, and kissed Ricki.

It was light at first, until Kate wrapped her arms around Ricki's waist. The kiss deepened, their bodies nearly pressed flush together. Ricki kept her grip tight on Kate's shoulders, sighing with delight as their lips tangled, their tongues teasing to part each other's mouths.

Kate broke the kiss with a ragged breath, her lower lip quivering. Tears were in her eyes again, and Beckett looked up at Ricki, a shaky finger trailing her jaw.

"Just stay, Ricki." Kate swallowed. "Please?"

Ricki kissed Beckett's forehead before reluctantly letting go of their embrace. "Always."

From over Beckett's shoulder, Ricki thought she saw something shimmer outside the window. She frowned, convinced she had seen things as she felt Beckett grab her hand. But the flicker returned, and Ricki's eyes widened with dread.

"Beckett, get down!"

A blast.

Broken glass.

Ricki grabbing Beckett by the shoulders and tackling her to the ground, the two of them crashing into the dining room table before the detective's back slammed against linoleum flooring. Ricki gasped for air as she glanced up at the window, a cold shiver running down her spine when she saw the small hole in the glass.

Her stomach churned. Ricki's left hand was on Beckett's chest…and it was warm. Ricki looked down, tears in her own eyes once she saw her own fingers bathed in crimson. Blood oozed from the center of Beckett's chest and Ricki nearly recoiled in horror. She brushed strands of hair out of Beckett's forehead with her non-bloody hand, shaking her head as her lower lip quivered.

Beckett's skin was growing cold, fear in her eyes. All of her color was gone, and she was trembling.

"No…" Ricki's hand shook so bad, she almost couldn't dial the number before clutching the phone to her ear. "Roy! Beckett's down!" She choked back a sob, her blood-stained hand clutching to Kate's chest.

"She's been shot, Roy! I think it was a sniper! We need an ambulance to her place _now_!"

Hanging up, Ricki tossed the phone aside and clutched at Kate's shirt, tears streaming down her face. She shook her head, trying desperately not to break down, not with the detective's eyes staring back up at her.

"Stay with me, Kate! Stay with me…" Ricki sniffled. "Don't you die on me! You hear me?! You still have to meet Martha and Alexis, okay?"

Ricki couldn't tell if Beckett nodded or if it was just the tremors.

"Help's on the way, Kate. You're gonna be fine." Even as she said it, Ricki didn't think it was true. "You're gonna pull through this, and we're gonna find out who killed Coonan, then we're gonna get whoever killed your mom. Okay?

"I promise, Kate." She grabbed Beckett's hand and squeezed. "I _promise_!"


	9. Chapter 9: ICU

_**Author's Note: Not gonna lie, writing this one hurt a little bit...**_

* * *

_The hospital…_

The minutes after a sniper's bullet pierced through the window in Kate Beckett's apartment were a blur. Cliché as that sounded, for Ricki, it was the truth. Even as she paced in the waiting room outside of surgery, Ricki still had blood on her hand and on her shirt. She shook her head, completely oblivious to everyone around her.

Detectives Ryan and Esposito had come, and Captain Montgomery was on his way – but Manhattan traffic being what it was, there was no telling when he'd get there. Ryan and Ricki had exchanged brief pleasantries when the detectives arrived, but Esposito hadn't said a word.

All things considered, that was probably for the best.

She couldn't stop reliving those fateful seconds. The flicker of light, the one Ricki thought she had imagined, then the next. The blast of a trigger being pulled. The bullet piercing through the glass. Their bodies toppling over the dining table.

The sickening realization that Beckett was bleeding. Panic. Fear. Stomach-churning certainty that Ricki was watching her new partner's final moments.

Guilt. After all, if Ricki hadn't asked to start shadowing Detective Beckett, would this have happened? Sure, the Coonan case would probably still come up, the connection to Johanna's murder might've still been found. But…if Beckett hadn't taken Ricki back to her apartment…what then?

"_Mom!_"

For the first time since arriving at the hospital, the here and now pierced into Ricki's psyche, and she looked up to see her teenaged daughter sprinting toward her. They caught each other in a frantic, clingy hug, Ricki letting out a sob as her knees buckled.

"Mom…" Alexis squeezed her mother as tightly as she could, and Ricki felt another pair of arms surrounding her, knowing without seeing that Martha was also there. Ricki sniffled and kissed the top of Alexis' head before reluctantly letting go of their embrace.

"How ya doin', kiddo?" Martha's voice held a warmth and concern Ricki hadn't heard in years.

Ricki just shook her head, not wanting to talk out of fear of losing what little control she still had over her emotions. She stroked Alexis' hair, careful to use the hand that wasn't covered in Beckett's dried blood.

Alexis looked up at her mom. "You're not hurt?"

Ricki shook her head again. It wasn't entirely true – she was pretty sure she did something to her left knee when she tackled Beckett to the ground, but that paled in comparison to what the detective was undergoing.

* * *

_The operating room…_

"GSW to the chest. Caucasian female, early 30s!"

"BP 80 over 35 and dropping!"

"Cut the shirt open! We don't have much time!"

_Beep…beep…beep…beep…_

The team of surgeons worked in perfect concert, connecting Detective Beckett to a series of machines as her shirt was cut in two and pulled off of her body. Her eyes were shut, her skin, already pale, looking even more so under the harsh light.

"Entry wound in the center of the chest."

"I don't see an exit wound!"

"Get that bullet!"

"We need to release the pressure!"

"Make an incision along the left side. No more than an inch or two."

No sooner did the surgeon's blade touch skin, blood poured from the incision and splashed onto the floor. The surgeon stepped back in shock before finding his footing again, feeding a tube into the new cut. Blood continued to pour.

"Where's all that blood coming from?!"

"BP still dropping!"

"Come on, come on!"

_Beep… … … beep … … beep … … … … … beep…_

* * *

_The waiting room…_

"Mom, what's taking so long?"

Ricki cleared her throat and shook her head. God, her mouth was dry – so dry that when she went to speak, her voice cracked. "They're still working, pumpkin." She stroked her daughter's hair, staring straight ahead. "I'd be more worried if they came back out quickly."

Esposito was pacing, cracking his knuckles and snarling. It made everyone else in the waiting room uncomfortable, but if that was how the detective wanted to cope, then Ricki wasn't going to begrudge him that – mostly because she already knew his opinion of her and the last thing they needed to do was start something while Beckett was in surgery.

Captain Montgomery still hadn't showed yet. Traffic must've been worse than usual. Ricki checked her watch, confirming that suspicion; it was the height of rush hour.

When the doors to the waiting room burst open, Ricki looked up and saw Jim striding with purpose toward the group. Feeling tears threatening her eyes, Ricki shook her head and distracted herself by placing a kiss on top of Alexis' head. She and Martha exchanged a look, before Ricki moved the sleeping redhead to lean against Martha and stood.

She couldn't hold everything in anymore, and Ricki barely made it to the privacy of the nearby stairwell before she crumpled down to her knees with a loud sob, burying her face in her hands as her body shook.

The tears were practically a stream running down Ricki's face, her mouth agape. The dried blood was all too visible to the writer, even through the fog of her own tears, and she leaned back against the wall, letting herself release the tears that had been threatening her eyes – ever since the meeting with Dr. Murray, if she was being perfectly honest.

Ricki had been so busy crying that she hadn't noticed the door to the stairwell opening again, another body sliding down to the floor beside her. She sniffled and swiped at her nose with a shaky hand, jumping out of her skin when the presence to her left finally registered.

"Shit…" She closed her eyes and her lower lip quivered. "Mr. Beckett…"

"Ricki." Jim's voice shook and he glanced at Ricki's hand. If it were possible, it looked like his face went white all over again. "You…"

"It's not my blood." Ricki shook her head, another sob overwhelming her. "I tried to save her, Jim…I tackled her to the floor, but…she still got hit." Her fingers shook, the red caked into her skin. Ricki wondered if it would ever wash out – and even if it did, she'd still probably see it.

"I'm glad someone was with her." Jim stared at his own hands. "I'm glad she wasn't alone."

The two sat for several minutes without saying anything, another wave of tears overwhelming Ricki. She felt Jim's hand on her back as the sobs took over again, shaking her head and snaking her fingers through her hair.

Jim sat up, clearing his throat. "Katie tells me you've started shadowing her." He smiled sadly when Ricki nodded. "It's a little weird, thinking of her having a partner. She hasn't had one in so long."

Ricki's voice betrayed her, but she spoke anyway. "Why?"

"Conflicting personalities." Jim shrugged. "Work ethics that didn't match. That sort of thing. No one could ever keep up with her."

Ricki sat in silence, no longer actively crying, but tears were still falling down her cheeks. Her face was little more than a series of streaks, both from her tears and the carefully-applied mascara her breakdown smudged. She wrung her hands together, trying desperately to work out the tension that was overwhelming her.

"I can already tell you've been good for her." Jim's voice broke the silence, and Ricki's head snapped up in surprise. "She seems – happier, when she calls."

"Jim…"

"She cares about you, Ricki."

Ricki gulped back another sob, squeezing her eyes shut. She felt her entire body shaking, her heart practically pounding against her rib cage. She couldn't get their last kiss out of her mind, the love it held, the comfort she had hoped to give Detective Beckett in one of her most vulnerable moments. It hadn't been their first kiss, but it felt like the most important.

Especially now.

"I love her, Jim." She shook her head and let out another sob. "No, that's…I don't yet. I can't, but…" She forced herself to look at Beckett's father, her eyes red and bloodshot. "I can already tell I will."

Jim gave a sympathetic smile. "You _do_ love her, Ricki. I can see it in your eyes." His smile grew ever so slightly when the author gave him a confused frown. "Would you be this emotional if you didn't love her?"

Shit, Jim had a point.

"You know…" Jim sighed, loosening the black tie around his neck. "Johanna and I were colleagues for almost three years." He swallowed. "People talk about being struck by a bolt of lightning. With us, it was more of a…slow burn. Took me three years to figure out I was in love with her."

It struck Ricki, even in this moment, just how easily she and Jim got along. Even the day they ran into each other at the coffee shop, he was opening up to her about things that were incredibly personal. That day, he had the excuse of her books.

What was the purpose this time?

"I would give anything to have a minute of that time back." Jim's voice turned wistful, his eyes watery as he looked at Ricki. "You think you have all the time in the world, but you don't. No one does."

Jim stood and held out a hand for Ricki, which she took and forced herself back to her feet. Her knees wobbled, and she squeezed Jim's hand to steady herself. Jim surprised Ricki with a hug, and she let her eyes close.

He broke the hug and squeezed Ricki's shoulders. "When Katie makes it through this, don't let any more time go to waste. You love my little girl, you tell her."

Ricki frowned. "When…? Don't you mean 'if'?"

Jim smiled and shook his head. "Beckett women are tough. You're about to find out how tough."

* * *

_The waiting room…_

As soon as she returned to the waiting room, watching as Jim sat next to Captain Montgomery, Ricki kneeled in front of Martha and lightly ran her fingers through Alexis' hair. The teenager was still asleep.

"Mother…" Ricki swallowed. Her eyes were still bloodshot and felt dry. "You and Alexis should go home. She has school tomorrow. Take her to your place if you think that'll be easier."

Martha nodded and squeezed her daughter's shoulder. "Of course, darling. What about you?"

Ricki shook her head. "I'm not going anywhere until Kate's out of surgery." She gave a sad smile. "Maybe not even then."

She was so busy with her family that she hadn't noticed Detective Esposito come up to her from behind. He cleared his throat and she jumped with a start, exhaling and shaking her head as Martha gathered up Alexis so they could leave.

"Esposito." Ricki sighed.

He regarded the author with a serious gaze, but it wasn't nearly as hard as it had been before. He waited until the two redheads left the waiting room before turning his head to the side and squinting. "What happened?"

Just as Ricki opened her mouth, the doors leading into the operating rooms burst open. Everyone in the waiting room who had been sitting rose to their feet, and a tall doctor with broad shoulders removed his surgical mask and looked around.

"Anyone here for a Katherine Beckett?"

Montgomery, Jim, Ryan, Esposito, and Ricki all rose their hands. Ricki swallowed, trying desperately to get rid of the lump in her throat. She glanced at her watch; she hadn't realized they'd been here so long by now. It was almost the next day by now.

Her heart skipped a beat at the doctor's next words.

"She's out of surgery."


	10. Chapter 10: Out of Line

_**Author's Note: Thanks to everyone for the love; this story has been as much fun to write as it has been for y'all to read. Rest assured, this fic isn't going anywhere any time soon. I think this one's gonna be around for a good, long bit. Keep reading, keep enjoying, and keep reviewing!**_

* * *

_Kate Beckett's hospital room, four days after surgery…_

Kate Beckett still hadn't woken up since her surgery, but the doctors weren't all that concerned. After all, she needed to heal, and what better way for her body to heal from its trauma than under rest. Ricki trusted the doctors tending to her, but the fact that Kate hadn't woken up yet made her uneasy.

Not that she wasn't already uneasy. Ricki had barely left the hospital in the past few days, only leaving to eat, tend to Alexis, and even write some. Ricki didn't feel much like writing, but George wasn't budging on his deadline on the manuscript.

Apparently, seeing one's crush/muse gunned down by a sniper didn't merit an extension.

A small gift bag sat at Ricki's feet, a get-well token she desperately hoped she'd have a chance to give to Beckett. Everyone from the precinct had given her flowers – even Martha and Alexis added to the bouquet – but Ricki wanted to do something a little different.

The door opened, and Ricki looked up to see a tall man with a long face and a nice suit walk in, a small cluster of flowers in his hand. They exchanged a polite nod, before the man added his flowers to the growing assortment beside Kate's bed. He glanced at Ricki, clearing his throat and extending his right hand.

"Tom Demming." They shook hands.

"Ricki Castle."

Demming smirked and shook his head. "Wow, I had no idea she actually knew you."

"It's recent." Ricki tried to keep the conversation light, unable to tear her eyes away from the woman lying in the bed. "Not quite two weeks, I think?" Only two weeks, but it already felt like they'd been through a lifetime together.

"I work Robbery over at the Fifty-Fourth." Demming scratched under his chin. "We consulted on a case a few years back, hit it off for a little while."

Ricki's eyes flickered away from Beckett, squinting as she regarded the man. Sure, he was good looking, but the biggest vibe she got from Demming was _boring_. She mulled over his words – especially _for a little while_ – trying to keep the jealousy at bay.

"Is she gonna be okay?"

"The doctors are being real careful in what they tell us." Ricki sat back with a sigh. "But something tells me if anyone can survive a sniper bullet to the heart, it's Beckett."

Demming took an empty seat next to Ricki, and the writer glanced sideways at him. He was acting awful chummy for someone Ricki didn't even know existed until a few minutes ago. Kate hadn't told her about Demming, or anyone else for that matter – and she'd been under the impression that Beckett didn't have much of a social life.

Between the hours she put in at the precinct, and the murder board in her apartment, Ricki figured Kate wasn't much for going out, and the fact that she was once with another cop made sense to her. She didn't like it, illogical as it seemed, but she understood it.

"Can I ask you something?" The sound of Demming's voice caused Ricki to flinch. She nodded, eyeing the detective with suspicion. He cringed and ducked his head. "Is she…uh, there's not a man in her life right now…is there?"

If Demming weren't a cop, Ricki would've smacked him as hard as she could. Her mouth fell open, disbelief and disgust all over her eyes. "You sick _fuck_!" Ricki stood and her nostrils flared, and she had to put forth effort to keep her voice down. "You're gonna ask if she's available while she's _fighting for her life_?!"

Demming opened his mouth to speak, but Ricki glared at him, jabbing her finger into his chest. "To answer your question, no." Her eyes narrowed. "There is no _man_…" Ricki's brows arched, hoping Demming would pick up on her meaning.

Demming swallowed and his eyes widened. _Yeah, he got the hint_…

"I, uh…" Demming stumbled to his feet, clearing his throat. "Sorry." His eyes danced between Beckett and Ricki. He shook his head. "I didn't know."

Demming turned and left the room, brushing past Detective Esposito as the latter walked in. Esposito watched Demming leave before frowning at Ricki and tossing a thumb over his shoulder. Ricki shook her head and gave a dismissive wave of her hand – which was apparently all the explanation Esposito needed.

"Look, Castle…" Esposito kept his voice down, staring at Beckett. "I know you don't want to leave her side, and I appreciate that, but they're bringing Dick Coonan in for questioning if you'd like to come observe."

Ricki blinked. "You want me to observe the interrogation?"

"Ryan's thinking Jack Coonan's murder and Beckett's shooting are connected." Esposito shrugged. "We were thinking you might have some insight on that."

Ricki nodded and gave Beckett's hand a squeeze. "Lead the way."

* * *

_Interrogation Room, Twelfth Precinct…_

Even with a wall and the one-way glass separating them, Ricki still got that same vibe from Dick Coonan she got days earlier when they first informed him on his brother's murder. She had no proof, no evidence, but Ricki's gut told her this man was involved in all of this somehow, and as she stood in solitude in the observation room, her hands involuntarily curled into fists.

She watched Detectives Ryan and Esposito walk into the interrogation room, taking their respective seats across from Coonan. Ryan straightened his tie and cleared his throat. Ricki couldn't help but wonder why Esposito invited her to watch the interrogation; come to think of it, ever since Beckett's shooting, Esposito hadn't been quite so icy toward the writer.

Still, Ricki wasn't about to look that particular gift horse in the mouth; right now, all she wanted was for Beckett to wake up, get better, and for the two of them to track down whoever put that bullet in her chest, whoever stabbed her mother to death 15 years ago, and set about further developing their relationship.

Not necessarily in that order.

"Mr. Coonan…" Esposito clicked his pen and opened his notepad. "We have reason to believe your brother's murder is not, in fact, related to the Westies."

Coonan frowned with a shrug. "You couldn't have just called to tell me that?"

"No." Ryan had a look on his face Ricki hadn't seen in the short time she'd known him. "The stab wounds on Jack's body are almost identical to a series of unsolved murdered dating back almost 15 years."

No reaction registered on Coonan's face, and Ricki felt the tug on her intuition flare up again. She wished she was in the room with the detectives, though she knew she didn't have any official capacity and wouldn't be able to ask anything.

As it was, she wanted to wring Coonan's neck, even if she couldn't explain why.

Esposito pushed a series of autopsy photos across the table, but Coonan never glanced down to look at them. The tiniest hint of smirk played across his face, and his eyes narrowed. Ricki's fists tightened in response.

"So…what?" Coonan shrugged again. "Jack was taken out by a serial killer?"

"Try contract killer." There was that Esposito anger Ricki was familiar with; it made her smile this time, especially when she saw the detective lean in, his own hands curled into fists and his nostrils flared. "And I think you know more than you're lettin' on, bro."

"Really." Coonan scoffed and shook his head. "And why would that be?"

"We know you were funneling heroin into the States on the back of Johnny Vong's money scams." Ryan read for his own notepad, before his eyes flicked up to regard Coonan. Again, there was no reaction. "So we already know you're not on the up-and-up."

Esposito stood and started circling Coonan like a hungry vulture. "We also know your brother wasn't just looking for a way out of the Westies. He was all set to tell the FBI everything he knew – about the Westies, about your heroin ring, _everything_."

Coonan's eyebrows raised. "So, what? I hired someone to kill my brother?"

"The same person hired for four other killings 15 years ago."

Coonan laughed and shook his head. "This is ridiculous."

Ryan arched a brow. "Is it? Because we discovered several wire transfers of $100,000 from your account to an untraceable account over the past two decades." Ryan slid a piece of paper at Coonan. "Transfers that coincide with each of the murders – including Jack's."

Esposito leaned in, his face inches from Coonan's. "Start talkin', bro…"

Coonan sighed and sank back into his seat. "His name is Rathbourne. He's former Special Forces, we met when I was stationed in Afghanistan." He leaned away from Esposito, glancing at Ryan. "He takes a job, gets his money, then does what he's asked to do."

Esposito snarled. "What's his_ real_ name?"

Coonan shrugged. "He never told me. Look, the only time we ever make contact is when I have a job for him. I tell him who the target is, I wire him the money, and then I wait."

Ryan and Esposito exchanged a glance. "Does that work include sniper fire?"

"What?"

Esposito got in Coonan's face again. "A sniper gunned down one of our own a few days ago. Not that long after we tied your brother's murder to those others, come to think of it. You mean to tell me this Rathbourne had nothing to do with that?"

"No!" Coonan pushed out of his chair, backing away from Esposito. "He never uses guns. Like, _never_. I don't know why. It's like he's allergic to them or something, but he always works with melee weapons."

"So here's what's gonna happen." Esposito sat again. "You're going to contact Rathbourne with another job. You're going to tell him where to meet. We'll intercept him there, we'll bring him in, and if what you're saying is true, the DA _might_ cut a deal."

Coonan laughed and shook his head. "It doesn't work that way, Detective. He wants the money up-front via wire transfer. No face-to-face meetings. No cash changing hands. None of that."

Ryan and Esposito exchanged a worried glance.

"Look, you wanna find out who killed that detective's mom, the price is $100,000."

"What the…?" Ricki shook her head and, without thinking, started pounding her fist against the glass in an effort to get the detectives' attention. They glanced in her direction with a frown, before Esposito stood and left the interrogation room.

He burst through the door into the observation room with a scowl. "What the hell, Castle?!"

"How would Coonan know about Johanna's murder?" Ricki pointed at the glass. "You never said a word about her, yet Coonan just admitted to knowing about it."

Esposito's frown deepened.

"Whoever killed Jack Coonan also killed Beckett's mom." Ricki was on a roll, pacing back and forth. "And Dick Coonan knows who that person is. Hell, for all we know, Coonan himself could be Rathbourne! And for all we know, someone arranged to take out Beckett once we learned the connection between the murders."

"Yeah, but Castle…how are we gonna figure that out?"

"Pay the money."

Esposito's eyebrows jumped. "_Excuse me?!_" He shook his head. "You _did_ hear the part about the $100,000, right? Ryan and I can't just shoot that money up into the sky without any hope of getting it back, and I know the NYPD can't."

"You can't." Ricki stared through the glass. "I can."

Before Esposito could object, Ricki's phone pinged. Grabbing the device, her expression lit up when she read the message. Pocketing her phone, Ricki smiled brighter than she had in days.

"That was Jim. Beckett's awake!"

* * *

_Kate Beckett's hospital room…_

Brushing her hair out of her face, hoping she looked her best, Ricki walked into Beckett's room and instantly lit up when she saw the detective's eyes open. The two smiled at each other when Beckett looked up and saw who it was, and Jim – who was sitting to her right – gave his daughter a kiss atop her head.

"I'll be in the waiting room."

"Okay, dad."

Ricki smiled at Jim as he passed, and the man stopped to squeeze her shoulder. Ricki nodded before Jim leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Told you she'd make it."

The author's smile grew as Jim left, closing the door behind him. Her heart pounded in her chest, and Ricki took in a deep sigh in a futile effort to hide her nerves. The bag was clutched in her right hand. "Hi."

Despite the harsh light, Kate's face lit up when she smiled. "Hey."

Ricki crossed to the chair beside Kate's bed, sitting and taking Beckett's hand into her own. She couldn't tear her eyes off the detective, shaking her head with a sideways grin on her face.

Beckett hunched her shoulders and blushed. "You're staring…I must look _really_ bad."

"No." Ricki smirked. "I just never thought I'd see you again."

Ricki placed the bag on the bed beside Beckett, and the detective arched a brow. "What's this, Castle?"

"I didn't wanna do flowers." Ricki nodded toward the table. "So I figured a different get-well present was in order."

With an appreciative smile, Beckett grabbed the bag and rustled through the tissue paper, only to gasp as her hand found the gift in question – pulling a small stuffed gray elephant out of the bag. "Oh my God…Castle…"

Ricki smiled. "I saw the elephant statue on your desk, figured you might like that."

Beckett squeezed Ricki's hand, her smile growing. If she wasn't connected to the heart monitor and the IV drip, she would've leaned over to give the author a kiss. Instead, she just smiled and looked at Ricki through watery eyes. "Are you kidding me, Castle? I _love_ this!"

Beckett cradled the stuffed animal against herself, keeping her grip on Ricki's hand as tight as her strength would allow. "Thank you, Castle."

"No problem."

"No, not for this…" Beckett squeezed the elephant again, blinking back tears. "For trying to save me."

Ricki sat up a little straighter. "You remember."

"Yeah." Kate squeezed Ricki's hand again. "The doctors said it wouldn't be that unusual if I didn't, but…I did." She shook her head. "Which means before I can go back to work, I'll have to undergo a psych eval."

Before Ricki could say anything, her heart breaking all over again, Kate brought her back to the moment with a squeeze of her hand. The writer met the detective's gaze, something in her hazel eyes that Ricki couldn't quite place. Whatever it was, though, she was glad to see it.

"Dad told me about the talk you had. When I was in surgery."

Ricki swallowed, her heart skipping a beat. "Yeah…?"

A teasing grin crept onto Beckett's face. "Mmhmm…he says you have something to tell me."

Rickki silently cursed Kate's father, though she couldn't be mad at him. If their last conversation was anything to go on, Jim just didn't want Ricki and Kate to make the same mistake he did all those years ago. Ricki didn't disagree, but she wondered if here, in an ICU ward, was the right time or place.

Then again, would there ever be a _right_ time and place for this?

"Yeah, uh…" Ricki's fingers shook against Beckett's hand, and the detective gave her hands a squeeze. Ricki smiled her thanks, taking in a deep breath. "Listen, if I'm out of line here…I'm sorry, but…"

Ricki closed her eyes to gather her courage one more time.

"Kate…I love you."


	11. Chapter 11: Healing

Ricki Castle couldn't remember the last time she was this nervous. Then again, she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so certain about anything, so sure in her feelings for someone else that how they felt about her actually mattered.

She hadn't been in love since her short-sighted marriage to George. The logical part of her brain tried to argue that she wasn't even in love now – that it was impossible for her to feel so strongly for the person laying in the hospital bed beside her after barely two weeks, and yet…every time Ricki looked at Kate Beckett, her pulse quickened.

The author had experienced enough lust in her life to know when that was all she felt and when there was something more. This definitely felt like something more – why else would she have spent the last several days alternating between bawling her eyes out and standing guard over the detective's bed – in spite of the police presence just on the other side of that door?

What started as a professional interest – research for a new novel – was now about something else entirely, and as Ricki awaited Kate's response, palms sweaty and her nerves as shot as they've been the whole week, Ricki swallowed.

What if Kate didn't feel the same way?

She had to, though. Right?

They'd shared three kisses to this point. That had to mean something, didn't it? Kate had told Ricki that she liked her, and Ricki believed her. That was a tremendous step, considering how they had gotten off on the wrong foot when they first met.

Ricki knew that even if she didn't love Kate yet, she eventually would. That snowball was already rolling down the mountain, and it was as much of an inevitability as anything Ricki had experienced.

What struck Ricki was just how much Kate's feelings mattered to her.

"Kate…"

A shy smile crossed the detective's face, and she gave Ricki's hand a squeeze. Ricki sucked in a deep breath, equal parts anticipation and dread in her eyes. She wanted so badly for Kate to answer her, to just let her know one way or the other. Seconds had passed since Ricki's admission, but it felt like minutes, if not hours.

"Kate." Ricki straightened in her seat, trying for bravado. "I love you."

"Come here, Castle."

Momentarily confused – that certainly hadn't been what Ricki expected – she did as asked, leaning forward so that her entire upper body was hovering over the bed. Kate laid the stuffed animal in her lap before letting her hand roam to the back of Ricki's head, pulling her closer until their lips touched again.

The kiss was soft at first, but when Kate's fingers tightened in Ricki's hair, their lips pressed more firmly together, and Ricki found herself hoisting a leg up onto the bed. Under different circumstances, the writer would be pressing the issue a little bit further, but something told her a hospital bed probably wasn't the best place for that.

Reluctantly, and only because she needed the oxygen, Kate broke the kiss, pressing her forehead against Ricki's. They were both breathing heavily, though Ricki's labored breath was a product of nerves as much as anything else.

She swallowed, a tentative smile on her face.

"Castle." Kate nuzzled against Ricki, their noses briefly touching. "I…I love you too."

Ricki couldn't find the words to describe the sensation that coursed through her when the detective's words finally sank in. For someone who made a living with words, the things that left Ricki speechless were the things she admired the most. Her smile grew until she could feel an ache growing in her cheeks, her hand softly caressing the side of Kate's face.

She felt tears burning the edges of her eyes, and though Ricki was tired of crying, she much preferred this to the sobbing she'd done since Kate's shooting. Her fingers interlocked with the detective's, and Ricki released the ragged breath she'd been holding.

"Dad tells me you've been here almost non-stop since my surgery."

Ricki nodded, placing a soft kiss to Kate's forehead. "Only left to eat, take care of Alexis, and help the boys with the Coonan case."

Kate arched a brow. "Esposito let you help out?"

"Hey, I'm just as surprised as you." Ricki chuckled and shook her head.

Kate's expression turned serious, and she squeezed Ricki's hand hard enough that it started to hurt. Ricki kept quiet about it, though, just grateful for the contact. "How's it going?" The detective frowned. "The case…"

Before Ricki could answer, the door opened. She looked up in time to see a pair of redheads enter, and she silently thanked whatever higher power was pulling the strings that she didn't yet have to tell Kate about the case. She didn't want to dump all of this emotional heaviness on top of Beckett while she was healing.

"Hi, mom." Alexis squeezed Ricki into a tight hug while Martha hovered near the doorway.

"Hey, pumpkin." Ricki kissed the top of her daughter's head. "Mother, Alexis…I'd like you to meet Detective Kate Beckett."

Kate waved with a sheepish smile, still holding on to Ricki's hand. Alexis didn't seem to notice, but Kate saw the older woman's brow arching before she cast a glance Ricki's way.

"Detective Beckett." Martha's tone was even, but her body language was hard to read. "Nice to finally meet you. Rebecca has told us so much about you."

Kate frowned. "Rebecca?"

Ricki sighed, feeling her ears burn. "My, uh…my given name is Rebecca Rodgers." She shook her head. "I legally changed it years ago, but Mother still insists on calling me Rebecca."

"Beats some other things I could call you, kiddo."

Kate couldn't help but smile as Ricki's face turned beet red. They squeezed their hands in unison, and when their eyes met, Ricki forgot all about her mother's constant needling and gave another big, toothy smile. Alexis saw this and couldn't help but smirk.

"I knew it."

Ricki feigned a frown. "Knew what?"

"You have a crush." The teenager's grin was as wide as Ricki's, and the writer sighed in resignation. She was getting it from both her mother and her daughter, and apparently, there was nothing she could do about it.

Ricki's eyes met Kate's, and it was clear the detective was enjoying the show. "See what I have to deal with every day?"

Kate laughed and shook her head. The sound of Martha clearing her throat interrupted the festivities, and when Ricki looked up, she saw a look on her mother's face that she hadn't seen in years.

"Darling, can we talk?" Martha's head tilted back. "Outside."

"Sure." Reluctantly letting go of Kate's hand, she placed a kiss on top of the detective's head before doing the same with Alexis. Alexis took Ricki's place in the chair, grabbing the stuffed elephant and whispering something to Kate.

Ricki and Martha stepped out into the hallway before Ricki found an open bench for them to sit in. She lowered herself onto it with a sigh, the physical exhaustion finally threatening to overtake her. "What is it, Mother?"

"Rebecca Abigail Rodgers, just what do you think you're doing?"

Ricki blinked and leaned away from Martha; she couldn't remember the last time her mother had used her full name like that. She didn't like it when she was a child, and she didn't care for it now, either.

"Mother…"

"You are _not_ a cop!" Martha jabbed her finger into Ricki's chest, her voice shaky. "And yet here you are pretending to be one because of some…" She waved her hands dramatically over her head. "…_crush_!"

"Mother." Ricki spoke through gritted teeth, trying to keep her voice down. "I told you, I'm researching for my next novel."

"And you just happen to be shadowing the prettiest detective in New York City." Martha shook her head and placed a hand on Ricki's shoulder. "Rebecca, darling…I saw the way you looked at her in there just now. I haven't seen you look at someone like that in years."

Ricki frowned. "And that's a problem?"

"If you get hurt." Martha shrugged. "Or worse…"

"Mother…"

"Rebecca…"

"You think I should stop shadowing Detective Beckett?"

"I think you should be honest with yourself about why you're doing this." Martha shook her head. "You've written how many bestsellers now? And you didn't have to spend every day in a precinct or by Katherine's bedside to do it."

Ricki sighed and leaned her back against the wall. "It's not about the books anymore."

"I know, kiddo."

Truth be told, Ricki wasn't mad at her mother. She was just looking out for her. And given Rebecca's history of not dealing well when love went wrong, she couldn't blame Martha for expressing her doubts.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Rebecca." Martha stood, her features softening as she extended a hand toward her daughter. "She's a fighter. If she makes it out of here, you better kiss her while you're both still young."

Ricki stood and gave her mother a knowing smile, her brows arching before she walked back into Kate's room. Martha stood in the doorway speechless, before a smile crept onto her face and she shook her head.

When Ricki came back into the room, she saw Kate and Alexis laughing about something, before Alexis leaned in and whispered something into the detective's ear. Ricki arched a brow, standing over Alexis and stroking her hair.

"I hope she's not embarrassing me too much."

Alexis leaned back in the chair with a shit-eating grin on her face. "I was just telling Detective Beckett about how you couldn't stop talking about her the night you first met."

Ricki's cheeks turned beet red and Kate laughed.

"Mom." Alexis squeezed the hand on her shoulder. "When Detective Beckett gets out of here, can she come over for dinner?"

Ricki and Kate exchanged a smile before the detective sat up in her bed. "I'd love to."

"My food is so much better than this place." Ricki flashed a hopeful grin. "Promise."

Martha had entered the room, placing a hand on Alexis' shoulder and giving Kate a warm smile. "Alexis, darling, it's time to go. You still have homework to finish and dinner to eat."

As she ushered Alexis out of the room, Martha and Ricki exchanged a knowing look. Ricki smiled with a wave. "Love you guys. I'll call when I get home."

The door shut behind the two redheads, and as Ricki took her place in the chair again, her phone rang. Giving Kate an apologetic look, she pulled the device out of her pocket and answered. "Castle."

She glanced at Kate with a nod. "Yeah?"

"Okay."

"Do it."

As soon as Ricki hung up the phone, she saw Kate sitting up with a serious look on her face. "Castle." She blinked and swallowed. "What's going on?"

"That was Ryan." Ricki grabbed Kate's hand again. "They're about to make an arrest."

Kate frowned. "Who?"

"With any luck…" Ricki sighed, looking deep into Kate's hazel eyes. "The man who killed your mother."


	12. Chapter 12: The One That Got Away

_**Author's Note: I guess I should start adding a disclaimer, huh? I don't own Castle, any of its characters, or the novels published by Hyperion under the name Richard Castle. Enjoy!**_

* * *

While Kate Beckett slept, Ricki Castle sat at her bedside, computer hoisted onto her lap, fingers a blur as they worked over the keys. Inspiration had returned since Kate woke up from her surgery, and with any luck, the first draft of the _Heat Wave_ manuscript would be ready for George by the end of the week.

If nothing else, that would buy Ricki about a week of peace and quiet. Maybe.

A trash can sat at Ricki's feet, a clump of roses in the can. After Detective Demming's stunt earlier that day, he didn't deserve for Kate to know of his gesture. A shudder ran through Ricki as she thought of just how skeevy that man had been.

Honestly, asking if someone was available while they were recovering from surgery…Ricki had done some messed-up things in her day, but that was beyond low.

Ricki typed as slowly as she could to keep her rhythm, so as not to wake Kate, but the sound of the door opening broke her concentration. Mad at first, the anger turned into confusion when she saw Esposito pop his head in and wave for Ricki to leave the room.

Reluctantly, Ricki stood, placing the laptop on the chair and leaning forward to place a kiss atop Kate's head. The detective slept soundly, the stuffed elephant tucked in her arms. Ricki smiled at the sight, and it took Esposito clearing his throat to break her out of the trance.

Ricki stepped out the room, quietly shutting the door behind her. She saw the look on both Ryan and Esposito's faces, and the warmth she felt just seconds earlier faded.

"What's going on?"

"We got a problem." Esposito shook his head and glanced over his shoulder. "Coonan's gone."

Ricki frowned. "What? What do you mean _gone_?"

Ryan sighed. "We wired the money and set up the meet, just like you asked. Only Rathbourne never showed, and by the time we got back to the precinct, uniforms had already escorted Coonan out of the building."

Running her fingers through her hair, Ricki heaved a tired sigh and glanced back at the door with a shake of her head. "That's because Coonan _is_ Rathbourne."

Esposito frowned. "What?"

"How else would he know about Johanna's murder without us tipping our hand on it?" Ricki sat on a nearby bench, burying her face in her hands. Ryan sat to her left, with Esposito pacing back and forth.

"So now Coonan's back out there." Esposito curled his hands into fists.

Ricki shook her head. "And I bet he's already tipped off whoever's pulling the strings."

Ryan frowned. "You think Coonan answers to someone else?"

"He's powerful." Ricki sighed and leaned back against the wall. "But he's not _that_ powerful. I should've known he was involved somehow…"

"Why?"

"The day Beckett got shot, she and I went to speak to Coonan that morning, to tell him about Jack. When she introduced herself…" Ricki shook her head. "As soon as Coonan heard the word _Beckett_, something flashed in his eyes. I didn't think anything of it then, but in light of everything else since then? The tie to Johanna's murder? The sniper? Whatever we're dealing with, this is a lot more than just the mafia hit on a Westies enforcer."

Ryan shook his head. "We'll find a way to get you that money back."

"Negative, Ghost Rider." Ricki sat up again. "It's not about the money. Besides, if _Heat Wave_ does half as a well as _Storm Fall_, I'll make that money back and then some."

"Still." Esposito sat on the other side of Ricki. "That was a hell of a thing you did."

Ricki shrugged. "I saw a shot at finding out who killed Beckett's mom, and I took it."

Esposito cast a sideways glance at the writer. "You love her."

Ricki sighed and sat back against the wall again, staring up at the ceiling. She really didn't feel like going down this road with Detective Esposito. Ricki rolled her eyes and forced herself to look at Esposito. "Javier—"

"Hey." He shook his head. "We love her too, okay?"

Both detectives stood, and Esposito extended his right arm. Ricki shook his hand, and the two exchanged a nod. "Thanks for your help, Castle." He glanced at the door. "Could you give us a moment? We need to fill Beckett in on what's happened."

"Yeah." Ricki swallowed back her dread. "Yeah, sure. I'll be right here."

Ryan gave Ricki's shoulder a squeeze before the detectives disappeared into Beckett's room. Once the door latched shut, Ricki grabbed her smartphone and pressed the device to her ear, her left leg rapidly bouncing up and down.

"Mother." The writer sighed. "Listen, I need you to do something for me, and I need you not to ask a bunch of questions, okay?" Ricki chewed on her bottom lip. "I think the man who shot Beckett is still on the loose, and there's no telling what he'd gonna do next, so I need you to take Alexis to the Hamptons and stay there until you hear different from me." She sighed. "Mother, what did I say about asking questions?"

Ricki pinched the bridge of her nose. "No, I don't. But I don't want to take any chances here. Just…please, Mother!" Ricki cringed at the outburst, sinking back into herself and cupping her free hand over her mouth. "Please…"

Wiping at her eye, Ricki nodded. "I love you guys."

* * *

_Twenty minutes later…_

The detectives came out of Kate's room, their faces as somber as they had been when they first went in, and Ricki stood as they approached her. She sighed out a ragged breath, swallowing back her dread.

"So…?"

Esposito nodded toward the door. "She's asking for you, Castle."

"Go be with her." Ryan gave Castle a pat on the back. "We're gonna head back to the precinct, figure out what our next move is."

Ricki nodded. "Call if you need anything."

Esposito shook his head as the two detectives left. "Right now, _she_ needs you."

Ricki stepped into Kate's room again, and her heart broke when she saw the detective sitting up, clutching at the stuffed elephant with both hands, crying. Ricki tried to close the door as quietly as possible, before crossing the room, closing her laptop, and pushing her chair as close to the bed as she could.

Ricki gently placed her hand on Kate's shoulder and gave it a squeeze, taking in a deep breath to keep her composure. She hated seeing Kate like this – it was bad enough that she was still stuck in a hospital bed, hooked up to machines and IVs. But an emotional breakdown on top of her recovering from physical trauma?

"Kate…"

The detective looked up at Ricki with watery, bloodshot eyes, tightening her grip on the stuffed elephant before leaning into the writer's touch. Ricki climbed onto the bed, careful not to tangle herself in the wires connecting the detective to all of those machines. Kate rested her head on Ricki's shoulder, closing her eyes and giving the stuffed animal a squeeze.

"We were so close, Castle." Kate sniffled. "It was _right there_ and…"

"I know." Ricki gave Kate's shoulder a squeeze, kissing the top of her head. "It's not over yet. We'll find Coonan, and we'll track down Rathbourne, and we'll figure out the whole puzzle."

Kate brushed her thumb under her eyes, angling her head to look up at Ricki. "The boys told me about what you did."

Ricki felt her cheeks grow hot, looking away. "I…" She sighed. "I'm sorry. I overstepped."

"No…" Kate sat up a little sniffling and running a finger along Ricki's jawline. "Ricki. If it weren't for you, we wouldn't have gotten as far as we did." Kate placed a soft kiss on Ricki's lips before their foreheads touched. "I'm gonna get out of here, and I'm gonna find the sons of bitches who had Coonan kill my mom. And I want you to be there when I do."

Ricki smiled and kissed Kate before the detective laid her head on the writer's shoulder. They sat in comfortable silence, disturbed only by the occasional hum of the heart monitor. Ricki kissed the top of Kate's head and softly ran her hand up and down the detective's back.

"Castle?"

"Yeah, Kate?"

Kate arched her neck to look up at Ricki, her hand pressed flat on the top of the writer's chest. "Will you read to me?"

Ricki frowned in confusion, taking in her surroundings. "I don't have anything to read to you, Beckett. Just my unfinished manuscript of _Heat Wave_."

"That's fine." Kate gave a sleepy grin. "Read me the first chapter?"

With one of the bigger smiles she'd had in recent days, Ricki grabbed the laptop and pulled it open, silently hoping she still had enough battery life to fulfill the detective's request. With s smirk, she scrolled all the way up to the top of the document, clearing her throat.

Just before Ricki could begin, though, she felt Kate burrowing in closer to her, their bodies pressed more firmly together. The writer's heart swelled, and she looked down at the woman curled up against her, wishing to freeze this moment in time.

Ricki cleared her throat again.

"_It was always the same for her when she arrived to meet the body. __After she unbuckled her seat belt, after she pulled a stick pen from the rubber band on the sun visor, after her long fingers brushed her hip to feel the comfort of her service piece, what she always did was pause. Not long. Just the length of a slow deep breath. That's all it took for her to remember the one thing she will never forget. Another body waited. She drew the breath. And when she could feel the raw edges of the hole that had been blown in her life, Detective Nikki Heat was ready. She opened the car door and went to work_."

* * *

_Somewhere in Manhattan…_

Dick Coonan sighed when the black, unmarked SUV finally pulled into the parking garage, tossing his half-smoked cigarette to the ground and stomping it out with his shoes – shoes that probably cost more than the vehicle that had just approached.

Coonan put his hands in his pockets, indifference etched onto his face as another man, with a military-style haircut, a black leather jacket, and the build of a linebacker, emerged from the back seat of the SUV. The sound of the door slamming shut echoed through the garage.

"You're late." Coonan shook his head. "Maybe I should get you a watch next Christmas."

"I was finishing up a job." The man carried himself with an arrogance born from years of being the best at what he did. He was the best sniper the Army had to offer, even if he didn't officially exist, and now that he was back in the civilian world, he still managed to find a need for his specific skill set.

"Yeah, well, we have a problem."

The man arched a brow and shook his head. "I heard about Jack."

"This isn't about him." Coonan shook his head. "Okay, it sort of _is_. The police managed to tie his murder with the murders I committed 15 years ago."

The man squinted. "I know. Why do you think they asked me to shoot that cop?"

Understanding washed over Coonan's face. "That's what they meant?!" He paced back and forth, shaking his head. "The cops told me one of their own had been gunned down by a sniper." He took a step toward the mystery man, narrowing his eyes. "Tell me the truth, Maddox…did you shoot Detective Beckett?"

Cole Maddox shrugged, as if it was no big deal – because to him, it wasn't. "Yeah, right in the heart." He narrowed his gaze, too. "Is that a problem?"

"Hell yeah, it is! Because she's not dead!"

Maddox scoffed. "Please."

"Think about it." Coonan was still pacing. "If she had died, it would be all over the news. The NYPD would be crawling all over this city like cockroaches looking for whoever pulled that trigger. There would've been an obituary, a funeral, all of it! But there's been…_nothing_. Unless you count her buddies dragging me into a room and trying to get a confession out of me."

Maddox smirked. "And how did that go?"

Coonan shrugged. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"So what do we do?"

"Nothing." Coonan approached Maddox, trying his best to ignore the handgun tucked into the waistband of Maddox's cargo pants. "As it is, we've already violated the terms of the agreement."

"No, we haven't." Maddox shrugged. "She did. The NYPD did. The second they linked your brother's murder to Johanna's, that deal was null and void. There's nothing to protect Detective Beckett now."

"Then you better go finish the job, Maddox." Coonan shook his head. "Because if you don't, she is going to rain hell down over your head, and she won't stop until every last one of us are either behind bars or in the ground."

Maddox laughed, turning to get back into the SUV. "So you're saying Katherine Beckett wants a war?"

"Once she connects all the dots, yeah."

"Then let's not even give her that opportunity."


	13. Chapter 13: Home

_**Author's Note: I feel like I should apologize for the last scene...**_

* * *

_Two weeks later…_

It was all Ricki Castle could do to ignore her phone. Martha and Alexis were getting restless up in the Hamptons, and the teenager in particular was anxious to come back home. Ricki understood their frustration, but with whoever shot Detective Beckett still on the loose, she didn't feel comfortable.

Then again, with Kate about to be released from the hospital – but not before being handed out roughly half a dozen prescriptions, appointments for physical therapy, and the number for a Dr. Carvin Burke – maybe the worst was over for now.

Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

As soon as Kate emerged from the bathroom, wearing a gray t-shirt and jeans – a look Ricki was taking in for the first time, a look she loved just as much as any other the detective could showcase – Ricki closed the laptop with a smile, closing the distance and wrapping an arm around Kate's waist.

"Good timing." Their noses brushed together. "I just sent _Heat Wave_ to my publisher."

Surprise flashed in the detective's hazel eyes, a smile spreading across her lips. "You finished?"

Ricki shrugged. "The first draft. I got a lot of writing done while you were sleeping these past few weeks."

Hooking her finger into the collar of Ricki's shirt, Kate wrapped her other arm around the writer's shoulder and nipped teasingly at her lower lip. "Can't wait to read it…"

Ricki smiled and pulled Kate even closer for a kiss, but the pair was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. They un-coupled as quickly as they could, both women staring sheepishly at the floor once they saw Jim Beckett walk in.

His grin matched theirs, as if he knew he had come in at an inopportune moment. "Hey, uh…" He cleared his throat and straightened his black tie. "You ladies all set?"

"Almost, dad." Kate sighed, giving the room one last look-around. "So glad to be getting out of here."

Ricki took Kate's hand and squeezed. "How you feeling?"

"Good." The detective sighed. "Antsy. Ready to go home."

Jim cleared his throat. "About that…"

Kate shot her father a look that was equal parts annoyed and confused. "What?"

Ricki squeezed Kate's hand. "Your apartment's still a crime scene. Montgomery has officers surrounding the place day and night."

"So…" Kate shook her head. "Where am I supposed to go?"

Jim shrugged. "There's my cabin."

"And my loft." Ricki kissed the detective's left temple. "It's a secure building."

Kate arched her brows and smirked. "You mean the same loft you barred your mother and daughter from being in because you feared for their safety?" She shook her head with a classic Beckett eye-roll. "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear you were trying to woo me."

"And here I thought I already had." Ricki kissed Kate's temple again before turning her attention to Jim. "This cabin...where is it?"

"The mountains." Jim shrugged. "The very definition of remote. I go out there, my phone won't even work."

Ricki blanched. "That's no good…as tempting as it would be to get away from George for a while, I can't just disappear on him after turning in a manuscript."

"Not to mention, Martha and Alexis would worry sick if they couldn't get a hold of you."

"Right." Ricki gave Kate her best cheeky grin. "My loft it is, then."

Jim smirked and shook his head before approaching the two women. He gave his daughter a hug before placing his hand on Ricki's shoulder and giving it a squeeze. "The offer stands, just in case." He leaned in to whisper to Ricki. "Keep her safe."

Ricki smiled and gave Jim a knowing nod, before the two women shared a quick kiss and Kate hoisted a duffel bag over her right shoulder. Their hands interlocked, and Jim led the way out the door.

Ricki and Kate were hand-in-hand the entire way.

* * *

_Diner in Manhattan…_

Javier Esposito and Kevin Ryan slipped into a booth in the back corner of a diner whose name neither one of them could pronounce. Esposito glanced over his shoulder to make sure they weren't followed, taking off his gloves before regarding the man sitting across from him.

John Raglan wore a perpetual scowl, accentuated by the bags under his eyes and his bald head. He wore a gray hoodie that looked like it needed a few rounds in the washing machine, and the garment looked like it was about three sizes too big.

He looked pale. Actually, more than pale. If Esposito could think of a word that was worse than pale, that would be the word he'd use to describe the former detective.

"Who's this?" Raglan pointed at Detective Ryan. "I told you to come alone."

"That's my partner." Esposito leaned in. "You wanna talk to me, you gotta talk to him too."

Raglan sighed in resignation, grabbing the steaming mug of coffee in front of him, taking a sip and hissing when the black liquid burned his tongue. He pushed the mug away with a growl, looking out the window.

"Doc says I got six months." Raglan shook his head. "Lymphoma."

"That's real sad." Esposito's tone was flat. "What does that have to do with Johanna Beckett?"

Raglan went silent for several moments, and the detectives exchanged a glance. Esposito was about to get up and leave when Raglan broke into a coughing fit, clearing his throat and looking at them through glassy eyes.

"I made a lotta mistakes in my day." Raglan shook his head. "Beckett's case was one of 'em." He leaned forward, dark eyes dancing around the surroundings again. Raglan's shoulders were hunched, and he clutched at his mug with both hands. "This goes a lot deeper than you know."

"We had a feeling." Ryan spoke for the first time.

Esposito narrowed his gaze. "Does the name Dick Coonan ring a bell?"

Raglan's eyes widened, and that was all the reaction Esposito needed. Actually, he needed an explanation, too, because he couldn't really go on a look he got at a secret meeting with a cop who may or may not have intentionally screwed up a 15-year-old cold case.

Raglan opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, a gunshot pierced through the window and sent Ryan and Esposito scrambling. They two detectives crammed under the table, the other patrons also taking cover as Esposito grabbed his service piece. He stood, pointing to the gold badge around his neck.

"NYPD! Everybody down!"

"Javi…"

Esposito turned around to see Raglan face-down on the table, blood pouring from his chest onto the surface. The coffee mug was shattered, spilled coffee pooling on the table and mixing with the retired detective's blood.

Esposito grabbed his phone, clutching it to his ear, his eyes dancing all over the place. "This is Detective Javier Esposito! There's been a shooting at a diner on the corner of 54th and La Salle! Detectives Ryan and Esposito are on the scene, requesting backup and EMTs!"

Ryan hunched over Raglan, his fingers pressed against his neck. The detective looked up at his partner, shaking his head. "Javi."

Esposito shared a nod with Ryan. "Dispatch, please be informed…this is now a homicide."

* * *

_Ricki Castle's loft…_

Kate's eyes lit up as soon as she stepped into Ricki's high-rise apartment, and she couldn't have hid the smile on her face even if she tried. She let Ricki take the bag off of her shoulder, placing it beside the stairwell before crossing to the kitchen.

"Do you want something to drink?"

Kate stepped into the living room, her eyes taking in the décor, studying the bookshelves on either side of the door leading into the writer's office. The red curtains were translucent enough that just the right amount of sunlight poured into the place.

"Kate?"

The detective spun on the balls of her feet. "Hm?"

Ricki stared at Kate with a bemused expression on her face, holding open the door to the fridge. "I asked if you wanted something to drink."

"Oh!" Kate shook her head with a laugh, her cheeks turning red. "No…uh, sorry, I just…" She sat at the island in the middle of the kitchen, shaking her head again. "This place is gorgeous, Castle."

"I have Martha to thank for that." Ricki closed the fridge, placing two bottles of water and a bowl of sliced fruit on the surface of the island. "I have no sense of décor at all."

Stealing a grape despite herself, Kate munched on the piece of fruit and took one more look at her surroundings. She'd only been here for a few minutes, and already the place felt like home. Though she couldn't tell if that was because of the décor or because of the woman standing across from her.

But once Ricki came back around the island and sat next to Kate, chewing on a chunk of watermelon, the detective knew it wasn't about the layout or the furnishings.

"Help yourself to anything in this house." Ricki nudged Kate with her elbow. "You don't even have to ask. The guest bedroom is upstairs, across from Alexis' room."

Kate arched a brow. "And what if I wanna sleep in _your_ room?"

Ricki coughed just as she placed a cantaloupe cube into her mouth, and Kate laughed – because that was exactly the reaction she was going for. Once she composed herself, Ricki chuckled as well, shaking her head.

"I was _trying_ to be a gentlewoman." She leaned in, a playful growl filling Kate's ear. "But if you insist…"

Ignoring the food and the water bottles, Ricki snaked her hand along the small of Kate's back, leaning in so their lips weren't even inches apart before the detective closed that distance with a kiss. It was slow at first, almost tentative, as if they were exploring each other for the first time. They weren't, but given her nearly three-week stay in the hospital, it almost felt like the first.

Ricki whispered Kate's name against her lips, before she felt the detective's tongue teasing along her bottom lip. The writer opened her mouth in kind, the hand she had resting on Kate's back now pressing, fingers kneading.

Kate nipped playfully at Ricki's bottom lip, before the detective reached up, grabbing the collar of Ricki's shirt, before mashing her lips against the author's. It was, by far, the deepest kiss they had shared to this point, and there was a rawness and an urgency to it that none of the others had held.

Ricki couldn't bite back the moan that escaped her lips. She'd dreamt several times of a kiss like this in recent weeks, but as her hands worked up and down Kate's back, before eventually finding station on her backside, Ricki had to admit this went far beyond even _her_ vivid imagination.

Kate broke the kiss just long enough to release a ragged breath, one of the hands on Ricki's collar moving down over her chest. Ricki swallowed hard and bit her lip, and when the two women's eyes met, Ricki knew she couldn't hold back any longer.

She stood, taking Kate's hand and leading her into the office. Her bedroom was adjacent, and once they reached that room, Kate pushed the door shut, bit her lower lip, and nodded once. "Have a seat, Castle."

Ricki did as asked, planting herself on the edge of her bed, her heart racing. She swallowed again, whimpering when she watched the detective grab the hem of her shirt. Ricki started unbuttoning her shirt, her fingers trembling as she laid eyes on Kate's exposed torso.

"Kate…"

"No talking." She smirked, tossing her shirt onto the floor. "No clothes."

Once again, Kate left Ricki speechless. The author had lost count of how many times Kate had done that now, but the sight of the detective, in her bedroom, without her shirt…Ricki made sure to take a moment to study the visual in front of her, her fingers trembling so bad now that they were hopeless on her own shirt.

With a smirk, Kate reached down and unbuttoned Ricki's shirt, pushing it off of her shoulders with a devilish grin. They were wearing matching black bras, and Kate licked her lips as she pushed Ricki onto her back and straddled her, fingers tracing over the writer's collarbone.

Ricki ran her hands up Kate's sides, slowly, making sure she savored every inch of the cop's exposed flesh. Ricki couldn't believe the sight in front of her. She thought she was dreaming. Were her hands not otherwise occupied, Ricki would've pinched herself to make sure.

A phone rang. Both women growled in frustration.

"Damnit…"

"Beckett…"

"No." Kate pulled off of Ricki with a sigh, shaking her head and grabbing the device from her back pocket. "It's Espo. I can't ignore this." Giving Ricki an apologetic cringe, Kate answered. "Beckett."

"Hey, Espo."

Her eyes widened, her face turning white as a sheet. "_What?!_"

The frustration of the moment gone, Ricki sprung to her feet and was at Kate's side. Their hands interlocked as Kate hung up the phone, tears burning the edges of her eyes. The room was dimly lit, but the fresh scar on her chest was the only thing Ricki could see at the moment.

"Kate?" Ricki swallowed. "What is it?"

Kate sniffled, a tear rolling down her cheek. "It's Raglan. He's been murdered."


	14. Chapter 14: Don't Tell Me

By the time Kate Beckett had gotten to the diner, the adrenaline having run its course, she was out of breath. She stopped on the sidewalk, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. Ricki stood at her side, holding onto her arm. The detective cringed with each gasp, the expansion of her chest tugging slightly on her scar.

"Easy…" Ricki's voice was a soothing whisper. "Just take it easy, Kate…"

"Detective!" The sound of Captain Montgomery's voice startled both women. "Just what the _hell_ do you think you're doing here?!"

"Sir…" Kate gulped in more air. "Espo called…"

"And I will deal with him accordingly." Montgomery's eyes went back and forth between the two women, and he glanced over his shoulder at the growing media scrum. "You can't be at an active crime scene, Beckett. Not without passing all of your tests."

"Sir, _please_."

"Ryan and Esposito have everything under control." The captain glanced at Ricki. "Take her home."

Montgomery walked away before either Kate or Ricki could protest, approaching the throng of cameras and microphones. The two women exchanged a glance before Kevin Ryan approached them, clutching a small notepad and slightly out of breath.

"Kevin, what happened?"

"Raglan called Esposito yesterday and said he wanted to meet." In full-on detective mode, Ryan glanced down at his notepad. "He heard about your shooting on the news and said he wanted to start making things right."

Ricki and Kate exchanged a confused look before the writer shook her head. "Why?"

"He had cancer. Raglan said he only had six months left."

Kate swallowed back dread, her hand snaking around Ricki's and giving it a squeeze. Ricki squeezed in return. The detective shook her head, knowing in her gut what Raglan was referring to, but she still needed to hear it.

"Ryan…what did he mean by 'making things right'?"

"We're look into—"

"Damnit, Kevin, don't tell me that!" Kate shook her head, gritted her teeth. "Can the cop speak. What did Raglan say?"

Ryan hesitated with a sigh, pocketing his notepad and glancing over his shoulder. He took a step forward, lowering his head and his voice. "He said he made a lot of mistakes in his day…and that your mom's case was one of them."

Ricki frowned. "And?"

"That was it." Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Before he could say anything else…"

Esposito joined the trio with a sigh, flipping through his own notepad before turning to his partner. "CSU found the room. Fourth-floor apartment across the street from the diner. The gun's gone, but maybe they'll luck out and get a fingerprint or a shell casing."

Kate's eyes wandered to the building in question as Esposito spoke, finding the fourth floor and crossing the street over to the diner. A cold realization washed over her, and her hand clamped down painfully over Ricki's as her jaw clenched.

Ricki rubbed Kate's back with her free hand, noticing the detective's change in demeanor. "Hey…"

Kate sucked in a ragged breath, looking at Ricki. "Raglan was killed by a…"

"Yeah." Ricki swallowed hard. "I know."

A block away, a car backfired, and the resulting _bang_ caused Kate to flinch and burrow her face in Ricki's shoulder. The writer wrapped her arms around the detective's shoulders, and Ryan and Esposito exchanged a glance.

Kate sniffled and looked up at the writer. "Ricki…take me home."

Before she could turn to lead Kate away from the diner, Ricki and Esposito exchanged a glance and a nod. By the time Ricki and Kate were on their way to the loft, using Ricki's car service, the writer's phone pinged.

It was a text from Esposito.

_Watch her – she gets too bad, let me know…I can help_

* * *

_Ricki Castle's loft…_

As soon as they finished with dinner – which, to Ricki's surprise, Kate actually ate – the two of them laid in the writer's bed, Kate's head on Ricki's shoulder, Ricki's fingers snaking through Kate's short locks. Their legs tangled together, and Kate took comfort not just in the closeness and the warmth, but the quiet.

There hadn't been nearly enough quiet of late.

"Kate."

"Hm?"

"Are you okay?" Ricki squeezed Kate's shoulder. "Be honest."

The detective sighed and burrowed herself closer against Ricki. She tugged lightly on the collar of Ricki's t-shirt, biting her lip. "I wanna say yes." Her voice cracked, and she sucked in a harsh breath to gather herself. "But…"

"Hey." Ricki kissed the top of Kate's head. "It's okay to not be okay."

"This isn't gonna end, is it?" The detective raised her head to look up at Ricki, resting her palm flat on the writer's chest, the steady thump of her heartbeat soothing. "They're just gonna keep coming until I'm dead, aren't they?"

"No, they won't." Ricki sat up a little bit, pulling the detective against her. "Because we're gonna find them and you're gonna get justice for Johanna."

Kate frowned, tightening her grip on Ricki's shirt. "But I'm not even active. I still have to pass my field test, my psych eval, my gun requalification…"

"And you'll do all of that. In the meantime, Ryan and Esposito will do what they do." Ricki kissed the top of Kate's head again. "They're good cops, Beckett. They're not you, but…they're good."

Kate smiled briefly, and the sight made Ricki's heart flutter all over again. She stroked Kate's hair, resting her chin on the top of the detective's head.

"When's your first appointment with Dr. Burke?"

"Next week."

"You want me to go with you?"

Kate chewed her lower lip and looked up at the writer before a small grin crept onto her face. Letting someone in like this was new to her, and still hard in a lot of ways, but in the short time she'd known Ricki, the author had proven more than reliable. Truth be told, she wanted Ricki by her side for everything, her walls be damned.

"I'd like that." She nuzzled into the crook between Ricki's neck and shoulder. "Don't suppose you wanna go to physical therapy with me tomorrow too?"

"I wish I could." Ricki squeezed Kate's shoulder. "But I have a meeting at Black Pawn tomorrow. They wanna talk about _Heat Wave_."

"Is that bad?"

Ricki shook her head. "Just revisions, possible release dates, ideas for promotion…"

A broad smile crept onto Kate's face and she leaned up to kiss Ricki. "I'm gonna be a book character." She giggled and their noses brushed against each other. "I can't wait."

Ricki's smile matched Kate's. "Neither can I."

* * *

_New York Correctional…_

Roy Montgomery sat in front of a dirty plane of glass, black landline phone attached to the wall to his immediate left. The air was stale, and the captain tugged at the collar of his white dress shirt. Someone needed to get the A/C cranking.

Montgomery exchanged a nod with a guard named Simpson as a gray-haired man in an orange jumpsuit sat on the other side of the glass. He sighed and shook his head when he laid eyes on Montgomery, but he grabbed the receiver on his end.

Montgomery also grabbed his receiver.

"Gary McCallister."

"Roy." McCallister glanced over his shoulder. "I was hoping I'd never see you again."

"Likewise."

McCallister smirked and shook his head. "How's life as captain treating you, Roy?"

"John Raglan is dead."

McCallister's already pale face went even whiter, and he sank back into his chair with a sigh. "I knew he was sick…"

"Not cancer. Sniper."

McCallister leaned forward, his elbows resting on the short table under the glass. His dark eyes narrowed. "Guess that means I'm next, huh?"

Montgomery leaned forward as well, keeping his voice down. "I know Dick Coonan was hired to kill Johanna Beckett. Three weeks ago, a sniper shot Johanna's daughter in the chest. Yesterday, Raglan met with two of my detectives to talk about Johanna's case, and a sniper put him down."

"Someone's cleaning up loose ends."

"Our only saving grace is that Detective Beckett survived." Montgomery smirked at the surprise that flashed in McCallister's eyes. Truth be told, Montgomery wasn't quite sure how Kate survived, either. "You think she'll unravel this mystery?"

"If anyone can…" Montgomery shrugged. "It would be her."

"It's too late for me anyway." McCallister shook his head. "But that's okay. We fucked up bad that night, Roy. It makes sense we'd eventually have to pay the piper. I just hope you don't think you're above that."

Montgomery's eyes narrowed. "I'm not."

"And what if little Katie finds out?" McCallister cocked his head to the side. "You say she'll uncover it all – surely you know that means she'll find out the role you played."

Montgomery was well aware of that. He knew Kate looked up to him – not just the fact that he brought her over to Homicide and nurtured her into the detective she was today. Truth be told, though, much of that was her own doing – her work ethic, her tenacity, her relentless nature.

She didn't give up. She didn't back down.

Roy hated the thought of Kate finding out about his past, how it related to her mother's murder. Of all the things Roy did in his life, that was the one regret he would carry to his grave. He hoped his service as captain made up for that, but he knew better.

"I made peace with this a long time ago, Roy." McCallister shook his head. "Have you?"


	15. Chapter 15: Rude Awakening

Soaked to the bone _was cliché, but it was how Kate felt._

_Her car broke down eight blocks from the precinct, just as the outer trails of Superstorm Sandy were starting to ravage Manhattan. New York was a city ill-equipped to handle a hurricane, and even in the early stages, streets were flooding and several blocks were reporting power outages._

_When the day began, Kate had prayed for no murders – the last thing she needed was to play Beat the Clock with Mother Nature and a case. But now, with the rain pounding her, her drenched clothes clinging to her freezing skin, Kate hoped for something that mundane._

_Because it beat the hell out of running for her life._

_Water splashed with each hurried step. Kate's lungs were on fire; they were filling with oxygen and emptying as quickly as they could, protesting as the detective kept running. She took shortcuts, alleys, any route she could think in her native Manhattan in an effort to shake her pursuer._

_Kate shook her head, trying to keep raindrops out of her eyes. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the accompanying lightning flash nearly blinded her. Fire sirens whined blocks away, and every time Kate's chest expanded with her breathing, she felt the puckered skin of her scar tugging._

_Kate clutched at her chest with a grimace, still on the run. Her fingers wrapped around the ring hanging off a chain around her neck. Her mother had been gone for 15 years, and Kate still yearned for her in times of need._

_Te detective turned into another alley and stopped with a gasp, bringing both hands to her mouth. Detective Javier Esposito was face-down on the pavement, his blood mixing with the puddles of rain surrounding him. A gunshot rang out ahead, and she heard Detective Ryan cry out in pain before something crashed into a dumpster._

_Her heartbeat thudded in her ears. Kate stepped over Esposito's body, convincing herself that she was imagining things. But once she turned the corner and saw Ryan dead in the dumpster, Kate dropped to her knees with an angry sob._

_Thunder drowned out her cries of protest, her hair so wet that it stuck to her forehead. Kate drew her service piece and emptied the clip into the darkness, screaming in fear and anger and anguish as her shoulders jerked with each kickback. Shell casings rained down around her until the gun did little more than click._

_She lowered her weapon, pained whimpers escaping as she gasped for air._

_Other than Mother Nature, all was silent. Kate holstered her weapon, swallowing back dread and fear and bile. A woman's body was tossed from the darkness onto the pavement in front of Kate. The detective gasped and covered her mouth again, seeing Ricki Castle tied up, duct tape over her mouth. Blood trickled down the side of the writer's head, and a shadowy figure approached behind Ricki. A sniper rifle hung over the figure's back, a police-issued handgun pointed directly at Ricki's temple._

"_No!"_

"_This ends tonight…" The figure's voice was jumbled, impossible to trace. "…Detective Heat."_

_She unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt, just so it would stop sticking to her, in the vain hope it would make breathing easier. Kate swallowed again, looking at her unconscious lover before glancing down and catching a glimpse of her scar._

_Another gunshot echoed in the alley._

_The scar started to burn._

_Kate didn't even have a chance to scream._

"CASTLE!"

Kate bolted upright in bed with a scream and a gasp, panting and sweating, her eyes darting frantically back and forth to take in the sight of Ricki Castle's bedroom. The arm snaking around her waist didn't register at first, and Kate swallowed once she realized it was the middle of the night and she was in bed.

The arm around her waist pulled at her, and Kate's hand instinctively went to cover the still relatively fresh scar on her chest. She laid back into the mattress, bursting into tears as soon as her head hit the pillow. The arm around her tightened, and Kate turned over so she faced Ricki, burrowing her face in the other woman's chest.

A loud sob broke the silence of the room. Ricki wrapped both arms around Kate and pressed her face against the side of the detective's head, a hand roaming up to stroke fingers through her short hair.

"Shhh…" Ricki gave her lover a squeeze. "I'm here, Kate. I'm here. It's okay…"

Ricki kept a tight hold on Kate as she sobbed into her shoulder, the writer staring at a random spot on the wall, blinking back tears of her own. She didn't want Kate to see how this was affecting her, how much she hurt whenever Kate hurt – and to tell the truth, Ricki was scared over how easily she felt this way.

They'd known each other little more than a month by this point, and yet Ricki felt more deeply and more passionately for Kate than she had anyone else in her life – including the man with whom she had Alexis. Only college sweetheart Kyra Blaine had come close, but even those feelings paled in comparison to the emotions Kate Beckett inspired within Ricki.

Kate sniffled and drew a ragged breath, clutching at Ricki's shirt. "Castle…"

"Nightmare?"

Kate nodded, crying into Ricki's shoulder as the author planted a series of soft, loving kisses to the top of her head. Despite her best efforts, Ricki felt a couple tears roll down her cheeks, squeezing her eyes shut and holding the detective as tightly as she could without possibly injuring her.

Kate shook in Ricki's arms, her finger clutching warm fabric wherever they could, her sobs slowly changing into soft, whimpering cries, then silent tears. Her shoulders hunched and rocked as she cried, and Ricki wished to whatever deity existed that she could just…take it all away.

Instead, she kissed the top of Kate's head again and rocked her as best she could.

After a few more minutes, Kate's tears dried and she lifted her chin to look at Castle. She saw a stray tear rolling down the writer's cheek, reaching up with her thumb to brush it away. "I'm sorry, Ricki."

"No." Ricki squeezed her even tighter. "Never apologize for how you feel."

Kate burrowed her face into the junction between Ricki's shoulder and neck, closing her eyes with a sigh that was equal parts exhaustion and grief. The two laid there for several minutes, both wide awake now, until Ricki broke the silence again. "Kate, can I ask you something?"

Even in her emotionally raw state, Kate couldn't resist. "I think you just did, Castle."

Ricki smiled and squeezed Kate's shoulder. "Why are you so open with me? I mean, I love that you are, and I don't think I can really explain how grateful I am for it, but…" Ricki sighed, partly wondering if she was saying this right – which was a problem, since she made a living with words. "When we first met, you struck me as a closed-off, private person – and I don't think it was just because you didn't like me."

"You're right." Kate bit her lip and let a finger trail along Ricki's collarbone. "I've had these walls up ever since my mom died. I just…something inside me changed, Castle, and I decided I didn't wanna hurt like that again." She looked up at Ricki. "Even in past relationships, I always had one foot out the door…just in case."

Ricki nodded, understanding far more than the other woman probably realized. Her exploits, between her marriages to Martin and George – and after George – were a large part of her public persona; "bad girl Ricki" was good for book sales. But whereas Kate had built up emotional walls, Ricki hid behind meaningless flings and inappropriate snark.

Really, Martha and Alexis were here emotional tethers.

"What changed?"

"I met you." The two women's eyes met, and Kate actually smiled a little, even as her cheeks were still stained with tear streaks. "Every relationship I had since mom died…the wall was there, but I just…" She shook her head. "I wanted someone who could be there for me and I could be there for them, and we could just…jump into it together."

Ricki ran her fingers through Kate's hair, content to lay in silence for the moment – a rarity for her – to give the detective the space and time to say whatever she needed to say. If Kate had taught Ricki one thing, it was that sometimes, silence was far more meaningful than constant yammering.

"My first year in Homicide…" Kate wiped at her eye and sniffled. "Every moment I wasn't on the clock, I was looking into my mom's case. For a full year, I lived and breathed that file. It got to the point where I needed therapy, and I just…" Kate sat up, taking Ricki's hand into her own. "I realized I was losing myself in that case. I was falling down the rabbit hole. So for the same reason a recovering alcoholic doesn't drink, I stopped."

The allusion to Jim's past wasn't lost on Ricki, but she kept that to herself.

"I realized it was going to destroy me if I didn't let it go, so I let it go."

"And yet it found you all over again."

"Yeah." Kate buried her face in the nook of Ricki's shoulder again, throwing her arms around the other woman's neck. They held each other in silence for several moments, the moonlight casting strings of light along the far wall of Castle's bedroom.

"Promise me something, Castle."

Ricki lifted Kate's chin so they looked into each other's eyes, a tiny, sympathetic smile on her face. "Name it."

"Don't let me get swallowed up in this case again." Kate swallowed, the palm of her hand resting on Ricki's chest, the gentle thump of her heartbeat soothing. "If it looks like I'm about to fall down the hole again, you pull me out. Even if I fight you the whole way."

Ricki pulled Kate into a slow, tender kiss, her eyes fluttering shut before her reluctantly pulled her lips away from the detective's. She stroked Kate's cheek with the back of her thumb. "Promise."

* * *

_Roy Montgomery's office…_

Evelyn was going to kill Roy, what with him still in his office as the clock approached two in the morning. But the paperwork wasn't going to file itself, and there was a mountain of it. He'd spent so much time overseeing both the Jack Coonan case and the investigation into who shot Detective Beckett that he hadn't had much time for anything outside the precinct.

Hell, the signed copy of _Storm Fall_ still sat on his desk. Evelyn's birthday was two days ago.

The precinct was quiet, save for the night janitor making the rounds. They exchanged a wave through the blinds, and as soon as the janitor left, the phone on Montgomery's desk ringed, startling the captain enough that he dropped his pen.

Sighing and straightening his tie, Roy picked up the receiver. "Montgomery."

"It's been a long time, Roy."

Recognition flashed in Montgomery's eyes, and he glanced out the window before reaching over to close the blinds. He swallowed back dread and loosened the tie around his neck. "Yes, it has, Mr. Smith."

If Montgomery were being honest with himself, he wasn't surprised to be taking this phone call. If anything, he had expected it sooner, considering how much Beckett's shooting had been on the news in the days immediately following. He glanced at the blinds again.

"Do you still have the files, Roy?"

"Same place they've been ever since Beckett got out of the Academy." Even though he was alone in the office, Montgomery kept his voice low.

"Then what happened?"

"Our medical examiner noticed similarities in the way Jack Coonan and Johanna Beckett were killed." Montgomery leaned forward, his elbow planted on his desk. "As soon as they discovered that, I sent Beckett home. Two hours later, I get a phone call saying she's been shot."

"Then the deal has been voided." Even as Mr. Smith said those words, words knew Montgomery knew to be true, his heart sank. "They're not going to stop, Roy. He won't let them."

"I know." Montgomery sighed. "He's as relentless as ever."

"Obviously, I can't guarantee her protection anymore. I need your assurance, Roy, that when she comes back, she will not go anywhere near this case. If it's still open by the time Detective Beckett is reassigned, you need to pull her off the case."

"You know that'll only drive her to it even more." Montgomery shook his head. "I can't stop her, Mr. Smith. I never could."

"Then I have to find someone who can."

Before Montgomery could respond, his line went dead.


	16. Chapter 16: Take You Down

**_Author's Note: Please note the rating change. You'll see why midway through this chapter. Enjoy!_  
**

* * *

_Manhattan…_

Roy Montgomery flashed his badge at the receptionist, ignoring her protests and pretending he didn't see her remove her headset and lunge out of her chair at him before he pushed through the wooden double doors and approached an ornate desk, where a man sat with his back to him, phone clutched to his ear.

"I understand that, Mr. Secretary, but I can't come back to my constituents without answers." The man sighed. "Your plan constitutes a massive breach of privacy, so big not even the PATRIOT Act covers it. At best, you're looking at this program being logjammed in the courts for the next two years. At worst, everyone on Capitol Hill who's on your side will lose in November and you won't get your precious funding."

The chair swiveled and the man arched his brows when he saw Captain Montgomery standing before him, wearing a scowl and tapping his left foot in impatience. The captain's left hand was twitching in unison with the foot tapping, and the man tried his best to hide the smirk.

"Listen, Mr. Secretary, I'm late for a meeting. Send Ingrid my best and tell the President our 12:30 at Pebble Beach next week is still on." The man hung up the phone with a sigh, sitting back in his seat and straightening his tie. "Captain Montgomery." A self-satisfied smile crossed the man's face. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"You know _damn_ well why I'm here, Senator." Montgomery's nostrils flare. "We had a deal!"

"And as I recall…you broke it."

"_Me?_" Montgomery leaned forward, his hands resting on the desk, eyes briefly taking in the bronze nameplate that read _William Bracken_. "I'm not the one who called for a sniper to camp outside Detective Beckett's window."

"And I'm not the one who connected Jack Coonan's murder to Johanna Beckett's." Bracken stood, buttoning his suit jacket and emerging from behind his desk to meet Montgomery head-on. "If you'd have kept that bitch on a shorter leash, we wouldn't be having the conversation."

Montgomery grabbed Bracken by the lapel and jerked him forward, biting back the desperate urge to send him back to Washington with a black eye and a broken nose. "And if you weren't so desperate to fund your little war chest, we never would've had to strike a deal in the first place."

Bracken chuckled and shook his head, grabbing Montgomery by the wrists and pulling his hands off of his suit. "Please, Roy…are we really gonna play this game?"

"It's no game…you've caused that family enough pain, and I will see to it that you go down for it."

"Even if it means taking yourself out in the process?"

Montgomery shrugged. "I always figured my days were numbered. Hell, it's a miracle I made it to Captain." He sighed, glancing out the window to take in the New York skyline. "Yeah, releasing the file would condemn me to spending the rest of my life in jail, but you know what, maybe that's how it should be. And if it means you go down, too…well, I can't make up for my part in this, but if I can at least give Beckett that closure…"

"She'll hate you no matter what." Bracken shook his head. "You brought her into Homicide. You groomed her. Hell, you were busy playing father while her own dad was burying himself in a bottle. So now she's gonna find out you had a hand in this all along, that you knew for all these years who really killed her mother, and you think she's gonna pat you on the back and say thank you?"

"No." Montgomery approached Bracken again. "Seeing you led away in cuffs will be all the thanks I need. I'm releasing the file, William. In 24 hours, your career will be over."

Bracken smirked. "You don't have the balls…"

For the first time since barging in, the anger left Montgomery's face. Instead, he smirked, shook his head, and smiled. A genuine smile, lighting up his aging features. "Guess we'll find out together, won't we?"

* * *

_Ricki Castle's loft…_

Kate's advance copy of _Heat Wave_ sat on the dresser, a bookmark just over halfway through marking her place. She had run out for an errand, which Ricki hadn't noticed due to being stuck on a conference call with George. Well, it wasn't an errand so much as a surprise – one borne from the pages of Ricki's own book.

Anticipation fluttered within Kate as she returned to the loft with a plastic bag in-hand. She really wanted to see the look on Ricki's face when she caught wind of the detective's surprise, and she was glad to hear through the door to Ricki's office that the conference call was over.

Without any further hesitation, Ricki grabbed the contents of the bag and clutched them against her chest as she crossed from the kitchen, along the living room, and into Ricki's office before slipping into her bedroom. Ricki had her back to her, picking up the book on the dresser with a bemused smirk.

"Hey." Kate mocked protest. "I wasn't finished with that yet."

So startled, was Ricki, that she barely noticed what Kate had in her hands at first. But recognition eventually took over, and Ricki smiled knowingly when she saw the bottle of tequila and a couple of limes clutched in the detective's grasp.

"I see someone made it to page 105…"

Kate flashed a knowing smile, pausing to place the bottle and the limes on the other dresser. By the time she finished, though, Ricki was on her, devouring her into a deep, frantic kiss. Their hands clawed at each other clothes, their mouths clashing together in a mess of lips, tongue, and teeth. It took a while to find their rhythm, and by the time they did, Ricki had Kate on her back and lifted her shirt up over her head.

"As much as I would love for life to imitate art right now…" Ricki's voice was little more than a breathy growl at this point, her lips hovering inches above Kate's chest. "I do have other plans for you first."

Before Kate could respond, she felt the writer's lips kissing a trail over her collarbone. She gasped and tossed her head back, each brush of Ricki's lips sending tremors down her spine. Kate somehow managed to peel her shirt the rest of the way off before unhooking her bra and tossing it to the floor – though truth be told, she didn't recall doing it.

Ricki's lips left Kate's collarbone and found station between her breasts, taking a moment to gently pay homage to the scar – the tiny knot of still-healing skin that signaled so much of what they had endured together in such a short time.

Kate undid Ricki's ponytail, shivering when the writer's dark locks tickled her bare skin. Tears burned the edges of Kate's eyes before Ricki reached up to cup her breasts and squeeze them. They stared at each other in awe and reverence, and Kate didn't notice that one of Ricki's hands had fallen between her legs until she felt her jeans being unbuttoned.

Before Kate could react, she felt Ricki's fingers teasing her through her underwear. Her hips rose off the mattress in automatic response, and it was all Kate could do not to cry out with relief. Her hips grinded against Ricki's fingers, the extra friction from the fabric nearly enough to carry Kate over the edge.

She wouldn't admit it, but Kate had been wanting this for a while – pretty much the moment she was released from the hospital. Her fingers snaked through Ricki's hair, and her hips were moving more frantically once she felt the writer tugging her jeans and her underwear down to her knees.

Ricki was still fully clothed, and while Kate wanted to change that, the feeling of Ricki's tongue between her legs rid the detective of anything even remotely resembling rational thought. She growled the writer's name, her fingers becoming a fist in Ricki's brown hair. She thrust her hips against Ricki's tongue, biting her lower lip and staring.

Ricki spread Kate's legs with both hands, moaning the detective's name against one of her inner thighs before her tongue went to work once more. Kate whimpered and couldn't stop the twitching of her legs if she tried. In fact, she started twitching and shaking even more, every pass of the writer's tongue bringing her closer to the edge.

"Castle…" Kate grit her teeth, her toes curling. "God, Castle, you're gonna—"

The sensation snuck up on Kate, and before she could finish her thought, her entire body bucked off the bed and she tried her best not to scream as loud as she probably could've, both hands now tangled in Ricki's hair as Kate rode the wave of her release, every swipe of the writer's tongue sending an aftershock of pleasure along her entire body.

Kate whimpered and fell back onto the mattress as Ricki kissed her way back up her body, stopping once again to pay special attention to the scar. Once Ricki's lips met Kate's again, they both moaned their approval, and Kate reached a hand between them to slide down the front of Ricki's jeans.

Ricki gasped, breaking the kiss.

"Why, Detective Beckett…are you after something?"

Ricki gasped against when Kate's fingers found what they were after, cupping the writer's warm sex in her palm. A knowing grin splayed across Kate's flushed face, especially when she felt the throbbing warmth in her hand. "Already got it…"

* * *

_The next morning…_

Kate was face-down in Ricki's bed, their naked bodies draped over each other. Pillows and bed sheets were strewn about the floor, and both women were still coated in a light sheen of sweat. Sunlight had barely started to peak through the windows when Kate's phone pinged.

Kate stirred with a groan of protest before Ricki's arm grabbed her shoulder to keep her in place. The phone dinged again, and though she knew better, it felt more insistent this time.

Again, Kate grunted, lifting her head off the mattress.

"Ignore it, babe." Ricki rolled over and wrapped both arms around Kate's waist. "It's not even seven in the morning yet."

"Murder doesn't run on a clock." Kate rubbed her eyes and blinked, her short hair a mess.

"You're also not reinstated yet."

Kate sighed and slipped out of Ricki's grasp. "Ugh, don't remind me…" She looked over her shoulder before grabbing her phone, smiling at Ricki. The smile turned devilish before Kate glanced at the screen on her phone, her brow furrowing.

Ricki sat up. "What is it?"

"It's Espo." Kate shook her head. "He says we should turn on the news."

Both women got out of bed and slung their respective robes over their shoulders before grabbing each other's hands and wandering into Ricki's office. They had to step over the empty tequila bottle and several lime peels to do so.

Ricki turned on the flatscreen monitor in the corner, rubbing sleep out of her eyes before tossing the remote onto the desk with a yawn. She cringed at the smell of alcohol on her breath.

_Breaking news out of Manhattan this morning, as WNBC has exclusively obtained copies of files and reports dating back over 15 years, files that implicate Senator William Bracken and three former New York City police detectives in a scheme in which the detectives abducted suspected members of organized crime families and held them hostage for ransom. With more, we turn to our own Stephanie Blalock in our Midtown studios._

Ricki and Kate exchanged a furrowed glance.

_Thanks, Tom. According to these reports, three detectives spent a three-year period from 1997 to 1999 abducting and holding members of organized crime hostage for ransom. It was an effort so vast, so coordinated, that five of the city's biggest crime families called a truce. These reports also implicate Senator Bracken, claiming that he became aware of the operation and blackmailed the detectives for a cut of their ransom money._

_These files show that Bracken, who was New York City's Assistant District Attorney at the time, used that money to fund his first Congressional campaign. These files also reveal a money trail from the Senator to several unknown persons. Investigators are looking into those leads as we speak._

_We reached out to the NYPD for comment and have not heard back. Of the three detectives in question, only one is still employed with the NYPD. John Raglan was recently killed by an unknown assailant, Gary McCallister is serving a life sentence in state prison, and Roy Montgomery currently serves as captain of the Twelfth Precinct._

_We'll have more on this story as it develops._

By the time Ricki tore her eyes from the flatscreen, she could see Kate's knees buckling. She wrapped an arm around the detective's waist to steady her, and both women slowly knelt onto the floor. Kate wrapped her arms around Ricki's waist, and the writer just held her, brushing her fingers through Kate's hair.

"Castle…"

"I'm right here, Beckett."

The two women glanced at the screen again, just in time for Tom's dour expression to grace the monitor. _This just in…the New York City Corrections Office is announcing that former detective Gary McCallister was found dead in his cell this morning. Official cause of death has not yet been announced._

Ricki shook her head. "What the fuck is going on…?"

Kate unwrapped herself from Ricki, her eyes red and her lower lip quivering. "I think I know…"


	17. Chapter 17: Trust

_**Author's Note: I will be out of town with no internet access from Dec. 23-27, so there won't be any story updates through those days. I hope to post another chapter or two between now and then, and then resume after the holiday. Thanks for the support! Keep reading and reviewing, and I hope everyone has a great holiday!**_

* * *

_Captain Montgomery's office…_

The door to Roy Montgomery's office opened and slammed shut before either Montgomery or his guest – a black woman with straight hair down to her shoulders and a blazer that matched her dark eyes – could react. Montgomery looked up in time to see Kate Beckett, her face red with rage, lunging over his desk to reach for him.

"You _bastard!_" Her words echoed in the office, and if the looks from the uniformed officers in the bullpen were any indication, they carried a lot further than that. "How could you?!"

The woman stood. "Detective Beckett—"

Kate grabbed Montgomery's tie, her teeth gnashing together. 'You _knew_!" She lost her grip on Montgomery's tie when a pair of arms grabbed Kate by her shoulders, pulling her back away from the desk. "All this time, you _knew_ who was responsible and you didn't tell me!"

Ricki led Kate to the sofa across from Montgomery's desk, and she watched as the captain sighed, closed his eyes, and stared down at the surface. The woman standing to Montgomery's right moved her confused glare from Kate to the captain, shaking her head.

"Anyone like to tell me what this is all about?"

Montgomery sighed again. "Detective, Castle…this is Victoria Gates. She's from Internal Affairs. In light of…recent allegations, she's here to inform me that the department is formally opening an investigation into my years of service."

"They should add murder to the list!"

Victoria gasped. "De_tec_tive!"

Ricki grabbed and squeezed Kate's shoulder. "Hey…"

Kate yanked herself away from her lover's touch, standing and turning to stare at Ricki with tears in her eyes. "What, you on _their_ side or something?!"

Ricki stood, sucking in a deep breath. "No. I'm holding you back. Like you asked me to."

Kate huffed and shook her head, taking Ricki by the hand and giving it a squeeze in apology before turning to Gates and Montgomery. She inhaled sharply. "You wanna investigate Roy? Start with Bob Armen."

Gates frowned. "The undercover FBI agent?"

Montgomery sighed. "I think it's time Castle left the office."

Ricki approached the desk, folding her arms over her chest and trying not to let the captain see the anger in her eyes. Despite everything, she had grown sort of fond of Montgomery, though at the moment, she wanted to reach across the desk and wring his neck for the way he betrayed Kate.

"I'm not going anywhere, Roy. Unless you want LT to walk me out of here at gunpoint."

Kate approached the woman standing next to Montgomery. "Armen was the last casualty of the mafia ransom scheme. Raglan, McCallister, and…" Her eyes narrowed. "_Roy_ killed him, and once they discovered Armen was FBI, they tried to pin the murder on a mobster named Joe Pulgatti."

Gates' eyebrows raised. "And you know this how, Detective?"

"The last case my mother was working on…" Kate sucked in a ragged breath. "Pulgatti called her from prison, professing his innocence. He'd called every lawyer he could find, and my mother was the only one who would listen to him."

"Johanna was killed," Ricki interjected, "in the same alley where Armen was killed."

"Captain Montgomery." Gates shook her head. "_Roy_." He flinched and looked up at her. "Is this true?"

Unable to look any of the other three people in his office in the eye, Montgomery grabbed at the knot of his tie, loosening it with a clearing of his throat before finally nodding. He heard Kate approach the desk again, and he felt her presence when she leaned forward so her face was inches from his.

Montgomery forced himself to meet her gaze, tears in her eyes, their natural hazel color darkened in anger.

"I'm only gonna ask you this once, Roy." Her voice shook, her hands curled into fists. "Did you kill my mother?"

"No."

"But you know who did." When Montgomery fell silent, she grabbed his tie again. "Tell me."

"I can't do that." Montgomery shook his head, tears in his eyes. "I give you a name, I know you'll go right at him. I might as well just kill you where you stand."

"You know I'm gonna find out anyway."

"Detective." Gates leaned over the desk. "Need I remind you that you've not yet completed your requirements for reinstatement. So why don't you and your writer friend go home, you work on getting back, and _maybe_ I'll forgive this little stunt today."

Kate turned to regard Gate, before she felt Ricki's hands on her shoulders, turning her away from the woman and leading her to the door. "Stand down, Beckett." Castle glared at both Montgomery and Gates. "You got what you came for."

Kate sniffled and nodded, letting Ricki open the door for her. When the detective left the office, Ricki paused at the doorway, still regarding Gates and Montgomery with a shake of her head.

"Yes, Ms. Castle?"

"Oh, nothing." She flashed the most sarcastic smile she could muster. "Just trying to decide how messy I should make the captain's death in my next book."

* * *

_Outside…_

As soon as Kate and Ricki left the precinct, Kate stopped and flung her arms around her lover's shoulders. Ricki yelped in surprise before wrapping Kate into a warm embrace of her own, burying her face in the junction between the detective's neck and shoulder.

"Thank you." Kate's voice was barely above a whisper. "I almost did something horrible."

Ricki squeezed Kate. "Of course."

Kate loosened her grip on Ricki just enough to look into the writer's eyes, cocking her head to the side. "I'm sorry for snapping at you in there."

Ricki shook her head. "Already forgotten."

"It's just…" Kate shook her head, clasping hands with Ricki as the pair started walking down the sidewalk. "I can't believe, all these years it was right there in front of me. I trusted him, Castle. He was the one who brought me to Homicide."

The two walked in silence for a few blocks, but as they crossed the street – to the chagrin of at least five taxi cabs, despite the "walk" sign clearly being on – Ricki shook her head and gave Kate's hand a squeeze.

"Am I right to have a bad feeling about Gates?"

"She's…got a reputation." Kate sighed. "They call her 'Iron Gates.' She's _the_ definition of by-the-book."

"God help me if she ever becomes captain, then."

For the first time that day, Kate laughed. She leaned against Ricki as they walked, hand-in-hand, chewing on her lower lip. "Hey, Castle?"

"Hm?"

"I know we said we were gonna go dress shopping today for your book party in a few weeks, but…"

Ricki stepped in front of Kate, cupping the detective's face in her hands. "Hey, if you wanna wait after everything that's happened today, that's okay. I'll completely understand."

A warm smile crept onto Kate's face. "No, I still wanna do that. Just…can we make another stop first?"

Ricki's smile matched the detective's. "Name it."

* * *

_The cemetery…_

As soon as she saw the rows upon rows of tombstones, Ricki had a feeling she knew what Kate was doing. The writer sucked in a deep breath in hopes of calming her suddenly fragile nerves, swallowing back her anxiety and giving Kate's hand a squeeze.

She remembered meeting a lover's parents being a nerve-wracking affair, but…like this?

Kate weaved through the stones, running completely off memory. Some of the stones were brand new, fresh dirt resting at their base. Others were cracked, showing their age. Others still had been erected so long that large chunks of them were missing. Some stones had beautiful floral arrangements. Others were depressingly bare.

When Kate stopped, Ricki felt her heart stop. So overwhelmed with the moment, was Ricki, that she had to tear her eyes away from the stone.

_Johanna Beckett_

_Vincit Omnia Veritas_

_February 4__th__ 1951_

_January 9__th__ 1999_

"Kate…"

"That was always one of her favorite sayings." Kate's voice was low, belying the vice-like grip she had on Ricki's hand. The writer could feel the trembling in Kate's extremity, and she made sure she stayed close.

"Truth conquers all."

Kate looked at Ricki with a sad smile, and the two women rested their heads together, sharing a quiet moment in front of Johanna's tombstone. Kate released a shaky breath, reaching up with her free hand to tug on the chain around her neck, her fingers caressing the ring attached to it.

"We're close, mom." Kate's voice cracked, and Ricki squeezed her hand. "The mobster hostage ring you were investigating has been all over the news, and I just know it's gonna lead me to whoever killed you."

Kate's lower lip quivered, and she felt Ricki's arms snake around her waist from behind. The writer pressed herself tightly against Kate, and the two women's heads touched again. Kate closed her eyes and let her fingers trail over Ricki's forearm.

"I'm in love, mom."

Ricki's eyes flashed open, and on instinct, she tightened her hold on Kate. Sure, Kate had told Ricki a couple times that she loved her, but hearing the words in _that_ exact order, spoken with _that_ much reverence – and spoken to _this_ woman – it was overwhelming in all the best possible ways.

Ricki kept quiet, her ears eagerly awaiting whatever nuggets were coming next.

"The last person in the world I would've expected…" Kate shook her head with a soft laugh, the sort of sound that made Ricki's heart flutter. "But Ricki's so sweet and caring and funny…she's been my rock through everything."

Ricki found herself blinking back tears, squeezing the woman in her arms again and nuzzling against her cheek. The writer closed her eyes, taking in a deep, shaky breath before kissing Kate's cheek. "Can I say something?"

She kissed Kate's cheek again when the detective nodded.

"Uh…Mrs. Beckett…" She smiled sheepishly when Kate lightly headbutted her.

"Call her Johanna."

Ricki felt her cheeks go hot, briefly averting her gaze. "Johanna…from everything I've heard, you were an amazing woman, and I'm amazed every day by the woman you helped raise. Your daughter is bright, tenacious, warm, and she has shown me things I never knew existed."

The two women drew even closer to each other, though they were already wrapped up in each other's warmth. They both looked at the tombstone before them, and Kate seemed to ignore the tear rolling down her cheek.

"Jim told me how much my books meant to you, and…" Ricki sighed, shaking her head. "I can't begin to tell you what that means. I'm used to people liking my books, but I'm not used to my books giving them any meaning."

Kate turned in Ricki's arms, cupping the writer's face in her hands before leaning in for a kiss. It was a slow, loving one, as both women closed their eyes and let their lips take their time in exploring each other. Ricki tightened her grasp again, as if she were afraid Kate would float away if she didn't keep her grounded.

By the time the kiss broke, and the two women rested their foreheads together, they were both softly crying.

"I'm in love, Johanna…" Ricki's voice caught in her throat. "I'm in love with your daughter."

Kate huffed a laugh as a couple more tears fell from her eyes, and Ricki reached up to brush them away. She kissed the detective again, then smiled. "Thank you for bringing me here, Kate."

Kate brushed her nose against Ricki's before they locked hands and started walking again. "Thank you." She squeezed Ricki's hand. "For everything."

They left the cemetery in silence, wandering along the sidewalk to begin their trek for a dress for the upcoming _Heat Wave_ launch party. The silence was comfortable, both women recovering from the rampant, all-over-the-place emotions of the day. By the time they reached the first stop in their dress search, Kate stopped.

"Ricki…"

"Yeah?"

"I finished _Heat Wave_." The smile on her face grew. "It's fantastic, Castle."

Ricki smiled so wide that her cheeks started to hurt. Not that she didn't enjoy praise when it came her way, but for the inspiration for her latest work to speak so highly of said work…who cared if that reviewer over at the _Post_ wound up hating it – like they did her last several entries?

"Just one problem…" Kate chewed on her lower lip. "I didn't see a dedication."

Ricki smiled knowingly. "That's because I haven't written it yet." She stole a kiss before walking into the store. "The dedication is always the last thing I write, just before the first editions go to print."

As she took Kate's hand, Ricki knew exactly what she'd write.


	18. Chapter 18: Reset Button

_**Author's Note: I hope to post Chapter 19 tomorrow before my little hiatus, then resuming once I'm back on the 27th. Keep reading and reviewing!**_

* * *

_Ricki Castle's loft…_

Kate Beckett was all smiles by the time they returned to Ricki's loft; not that she had forgotten the developments of the day, the realization that at worst, Roy Montgomery was a crooked cop who withheld important information regarding a cold case. But Kate found comfort in spending time with Ricki, first in front of her mother's tomb and then as they looked at dresses for the upcoming _Heat Wave_ launch party.

She couldn't wait to wear the dress they picked out. Kate didn't want the tailor to take a week to fine-tune the fabric and the measurements; she wanted the dress in her closet _now_.

Her smile disappeared, though, once they were inside, turning her gaze back to Ricki. "Um, Castle…"

Ricki pocketed her keys with a look of curiosity…one that disappeared once she looked up, just in time to notice – and catch – the redhead that had made a beeline straight for her. She caught her daughter with a forced exhale, leaning down to kiss Alexis on the top of her head. "Alexis!"

"Mom!" Alexis burrowed her face in the crook of her mother's neck.

Martha had wandered over to join the trio, pulling Kate into a hug of her own. Kate frowned in confusion, even as her hand patted against Martha's back. "You're back…"

Martha broke the hug with a flighty, dismissive wave of her hands. "After what we saw on the news this morning, we knew we couldn't stay away any longer." The older redhead patted Kate's shoulder. "Anything you need, Katherine. Just ask."

A warm smile crept onto Kate's face, particularly at the formal use of her name. "Thank you, Martha."

Martha turned to Ricki. "Not to mention, Alexis' finals start next week. Her teachers have been quite accommodating of late, but I don't think they would excuse missing those."

Alexis gave Ricki a squeeze and a grateful nod before reluctantly pulling away. "Can't go to high school if I don't pass these tests."

Ricki huffed a laugh. "Leave it to me to have the one teenager in the world who _wants_ to go back to school after a couple weeks off."

Kate leaned in and kissed Ricki on the cheek, giving her hand a squeeze. "I'll be in your office, Castle. I need to call my dad."

Ricki nodded and watched Kate disappear into her office, shaking her head – both in awe of the woman who had decided to open her heart for her and in apprehension over everything that had happened.

To call Ricki's life a whirlwind since meeting Kate would've been an understatement. The Tisdale case, the emotional rocky road they wandered – thanks in large part to Ricki's own personal shortcoming. Their connection afterward – it was almost as if someone had pushed a big reset button to let Kate and Ricki try again.

The decision to shadow Kate. The creation of Nikki Heat. A seemingly innocuous murder of an Irish mob enforcer that wound up throwing both Kate and Ricki head-on into the Johanna Beckett cold case.

The realization that Roy Montgomery wasn't all he claimed to be.

To say nothing of the fact that not quite one month ago, a sniper bullet pierced Kate Beckett's heart. Ricki was so convinced she had lost Kate no sooner than she had found her, but somehow, some way, Kate survived. Ricki had no doubt – if Kate could survive a bullet to the heart, she'd pull through this ordeal as well.

Jim Beckett's words echoed in the writer's head. _Beckett women are tough…_

"How's she doin', kiddo?" Martha ran her hand up and down Ricki's back.

Ricki sighed and sank herself into the couch, shaking her head. "Amazing, extraordinary, mind-blowing." The writer shook her head with a sideways grin, looking toward Alexis when the younger redhead sat beside her.

"That's not what I meant."

"I know." Ricki smiled at her mother. "She's handling all of this far better than I would. Hell, I'm experiencing all of this on the periphery, and I've been on the verge of tears for the past few days."

Alexis rested her chin on her mother's shoulder, sympathy in her matching blue eyes.

Ricki kissed the top of her daughter's head again, before sitting back with a sigh. "I just…I want to do everything for her, but there's nothing I _can_ do. I can't bring back the trust she lost in Roy, I can't make the scar on her chest heal, I can't go out there and find the man who killed her mother…"

Martha sat on the other side of Ricki as she spoke, noticing the tears building in her daughter's eyes. Both Martha and Alexis took Ricki's hands and squeezed them. "Rebecca…you're doing plenty right now."

Ricki shot her mother a questioning look.

"You're there for her. I guarantee that means more to her than you know."

"She loves you, mom." Alexis kissed Ricki's temple. "I can see it when she looks at you. And we all know by now how you feel about her."

"You're basing an entire novel on her, darling." Martha shrugged. "If that doesn't scream love, I don't know what does."

Ricki shook her head. "I just want it all to _stop_." A couple tears spilled from her eyes. "It seems like ever since we met, it's been one thing after another after another. I just want it to stop so we can…so we can be normal."

Martha shrugged. "Maybe all of this…" She waved her arms dramatically over her head. "…_stuff_ is what makes the two of you work so well."

Before Ricki could answer, Kate emerged from her office, pocketing her phone and giving the three women on the couch a smile. The smile faded, though, when she saw the wet streaks on Ricki's face, her eyes narrowing.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah." Ricki stood and took Kate by the hand. "Just…hell of a day."

"Tell me about it." Kate smiled and gave Ricki's hand a squeeze. "Dad said to tell you hi, and he wants to know if you'd like to have dinner with us next week."

"Name when and where, Beckett."

Ricki liked Jim, and to be perfectly frank, she was relieved that Jim seemed to be fond of her. Ricki had her share of relationships over the years where the other person's parents hated her – if they never spoke of Kyra Blaine's mother again, it would be too soon – but Jim was good people.

The fact that Ricki got along with him was a massive relief.

Kate glanced over Ricki's shoulder. "He also asked if you guys could come."

Martha smiled. "We'd love to, darling."

Ricki's smile grew at that, and she tugged on Kate's hand. The detective turned her attention back to Ricki with an arched brow. "What?"

"Nothing." Ricki stole a quick kiss. "It's just…almost like we're a family."

* * *

_The next day…_

Kate's heart thudded in her chest, and her grip on Ricki's hand was like a vice. Their palms were sweaty at this point, but the writer kept her hold on Kate's hand, keeping her grounded as they sat in the waiting area, Kate's left leg bouncing up and down.

This was to be her first appointment with Dr. Carvin Burke, the NYPD-assigned psychiatrist Kate had to see in order to complete her psych evaluation. It was but one step in getting her badge and gun back, and Kate had dreaded it the entire morning.

She glanced at Ricki, chewing on her lower lip.

"Hey…" Ricki leaned in with a whisper. "You'll be okay."

"I just wish you could go in with me."

"I looked into Dr. Burke…" Ricki smiled when Kate shot her a questioning look. "You forget all the contacts I have. Anyway…he's good. Like, _damn_ good. He's calm, doesn't judge, and more often than not, he'll just sit back and let you talk."

"If I didn't know any better…" Kate flashed a teasing smile. "I'd swear _you've_ been to see him."

"Well, Mother _does_ say I need to see a shrink."

Kate laughed before the receptionist interrupted by announcing that Dr. Burke was ready for her. The detective sighed to gather her bearings, looking at Castle before the two women kissed and Ricki squeezed her hand.

I'll be right out here. Love you."

"Love you."

Kate entered Dr. Burke's office with a sigh, immediately noticing the degrees hanging on the wall and a medal of commendation over his desk. Dr. Carvin Burke sat cross-legged in an ornate chair, wearing a baby blue turtleneck and gray slacks. The light shined off his bald head, and he offered a warm smile.

"Detective Beckett." His voice was so deep, Kate thought she felt the vibration in her chest. "Please have a seat."

She sighed as she sank into the couch, letting herself sink into the cushions. It was almost as comfortable as the sofa in Ricki's loft – but far less colorful.

"Your file states that you've been in therapy before." Dr. Burke's voice held no judgment. "Did you find it helpful."

"I did." Kate nodded. "I was…spiraling, I guess. Needed to right myself."

Dr. Burke nodded and jotted something into the yellow legal pad sitting on his lap. "And what about now, Detective? Do you feel…right?"

Kate shook her head and shrugged. "Honestly…I don't know. It's been a hell of a month."

"The shooting."

"More than that." Kate shook her head. "I recently found out my captain was involved in a conspiracy several years ago that may or may not be connected to my mother's murder. I've spent the last few weeks unable to do my job, because of all the hurdles I have to jump. I'm having trouble sleeping because every time I do, I have nightmares."

Dr. Burke nodded. "And yet…you seem remarkably together, Detective. Most people in your position would be more unstable – and justifiably so."

A warm smile spread onto Kate's face, and she ducked her head.

The smallest of smiles tugged onto Dr. Burke's face, despite his efforts to keep whatever personal feelings he had in-check. He dropped his pen and leaned in. "You're in love."

Kate smirked. "Is it that obvious?"

"In my professional opinion?" Dr. Burke smiled. "Yes."

Despite the blush creeping into her cheeks, Kate sat up a little straighter. "Castle has been…amazing these past few weeks."

Dr. Burke's eyebrows arched. "Castle."

Kate nodded, smiling despite the fact that her face was probably beet-red at this point. She honestly felt like she was back in high school, gossiping about her latest crush. Only difference was, this definitely wasn't the lead actor in the school's Christmas play.

"Let me ask you something, Detective." Dr. Burke cleared his throat. "How genuine are these feelings you have for Castle?" Trying his best to ignore the anger flaring in the woman's hazel eyes, he put up his hands. "A lot of people, after experiencing a life-altering trauma, may experience strong feelings of attachment to people in the aftermath."

Kate swallowed the outburst she wanted to go on, shaking her head. "I loved Ricki _before_ I got shot. We are not together because I need her pity."

"My apologies." Dr. Burke sank back in his seat. "Now…how much do you remember about your shooting?"

"Everything."

"Really." Dr. Burke looked surprised – at least, that was what Kate thought she saw in his eyes before it disappeared and he went back into stone-face mode. "No memory loss whatsoever?"

Kate shook her head. "None."

"Do you think that's where the nightmares come from?"

Kate nodded. "They're always about someone getting shot. Sometimes it's me, sometimes it's my partners at the Twelfth…" The detective swallowed. "Sometimes it's Ricki…"

"How often do you have these nightmares?"

"My last one was three nights ago." Kate shook her head. "They're been a lot less frequent since I got out of the hospital."

"Have you returned to the site of the shooting?"

"Can't. It's still a crime scene."

"I want to meet again next week. Same day and time." Dr. Burke stood, approaching the couch. Kate stood in kind, and the two shook hands. "In my professional opinion, you're not quite ready for active duty again, but you're close. Another session or two, and I should be able to sign your waiver."

A mixture of relief and disappointment sank in for Kate, but she smiled it away and nodded. "Thank you, Dr. Burke."

Stepping out of Dr. Burke's office, Kate smirked when she saw Ricki sitting in the waiting room, clearly engrossed in her smartphone. The writer's tongue stuck out as her finger swiped over the screen, and Kate stole a glance – unable to hide the laugh when she saw her lover getting entirely too worked up over the latest _Angry Birds_.

"How old are you, Castle?"

Standing and pocketing her phone, Ricki stammered and smiled before clearing her throat and straightening her posture. "Old enough to play that trick with the tequila and the limes again, Beckett." She kissed Kate. "How was it?"

Beckett laughed against Ricki's lips, her ears growing hot. "I have to come back next week." She rolled her eyes as their hands linked together and they walked out of the waiting area. "Dr. Burke's not ready to sign my permission slip yet."

"But it wasn't _that_ bad, was it?"

"You mean other than the part where he questioned whether or not I really loved you?" Annoyance dripped from her words, but Kate's eyes were lit up when she looked at Ricki. "Nah, he was okay."

Ricki smirked. "No signed copy of _Heat Wave_ for him." They stepped onto the elevator. "I don't know about you, but I could use a milkshake right now."

Kate practically beamed. "My mom always took me for ice cream after I had to go to the doctor as a kid."

"Well, then let me play Dr. Castle and take you to Remy's."

Kate brushed her nose against Ricki's before the two women kissed. She smiled after the kiss, her fingers trailing over Ricki's jawline. "So long as you promise to play doctor some more once we get home."


	19. Chapter 19: Badge of Honor

**_Author's Note: Here's the last chapter before my brief holiday hiatus! I'm hoping to post another chapter of both "Paths Not Taken" and "At Least I Got a Goodbye" today as well. See you all on the 27th! Happy Holidays!_**

* * *

_Ricki Castle's loft…_

Sweat matted Kate's hair to her forehead, and she huffed an exhausted breath that belied the playful grin on her face. Her legs tangled with Ricki's, sunlight peering through the window and illuminating her naked body. Her fingers traced the swell of Ricki's breast before the detective pinched the writer's hard nipple.

Ricki gasped and bucked off the mattress in response, biting her lower lip as her left hand disappeared between Kate's legs, her middle two fingers instantly sinking into the detective with ease.

Kate gasped and growled into a long, grinding kiss. "Don't know too many doctors who do that."

"You're a special case, Beckett." With a flick of Ricki's wrist, Kate shuddered and bit back a loud moan. Sure, they were downstairs at the opposite end of the loft from Alexis' room upstairs, but Kate didn't want to chance her voice carrying.

She started grinding against Ricki's hand, letting her most sensitive spot rub against the writer's palm. Ricki started pumping her arm in rhythm, sitting up so her teeth could graze along the nape of Kate's neck. Kate grabbed Ricki's shoulders, gritting her teeth and shuddering at the sensation.

She dug her nails into Ricki's shoulder, and the writer responded by thrusting her fingers quicker and with more force.

"Fuck, Ricki…"

The sensation steadily built within Kate, and she bit her lip in anticipation of falling over the edge. She tried to keep the contact between her throbbing nub and Ricki's hand as long as she could, her hips a blur as they rocked back and forth – until the detective bent down, burying her face in Ricki's shoulder to muffle the scream she knew was coming.

And sure enough, there it was – the muffled cry against Ricki's shoulder as Kate fell over the edge, her entire body going rigid, her insides gripping tightly at the writer's fingers – fingers that were just as adept inside her as they were working over a keyboard.

The detective whimpered and gasped for air as her muscles convulsed and relaxed, the waves of pleasure almost overwhelming to the point where there were tears in her eyes. She traced her own shaky fingers over Ricki's jawline, catching her breath and huffing an exhausted laugh before they devoured each other into a hungry, grateful kiss.

Ricki nipped at Kate's lower lip, easing her fingers out of the detective. "You like that?"

Kate could only grin in response, flecks of gold mixing into her hazel eyes before she spread Ricki's legs, licking her lips and positioning herself at their junction. Before Ricki could even react, Kate dove in, her fingernails lightly trailing over the writer's inner thighs – which quivered the instant her tongue hit Ricki's clit.

Even in the heat of the moment, Ricki couldn't help herself. "And people say I—" She gasped and arched her back as her eyes rolled back. "—have a mouth."

Ricki jerked and bucked off the mattress against when she felt the detective's tongue hitting that spot…then again…then yet again. Kate wrapped her mouth around Ricki's clit and started sucking with a rhythm the writer didn't know she had, and Ricki's legs tightened almost of their own accord.

It wasn't long until Ricki was on the precipice of falling off the same cliff Kate had slipped off of minutes before, and the writer's fingers tightened in Kate's hair the closer she got. Her mouth hung open, short, rapid gasps of air taking place of the moans and screams she wanted to give out – she'd had plenty of practice in keeping quiet over the years.

But with one last swipe of Kate's tongue, Ricki couldn't help but moan. Her body sunk into the mattress as the spasms and convulsions started, the waves of her release crashing against Kate's mouth.

Kate relished in the warmth and the taste, kissing her way back up Ricki's body – taking pleasure in feeling her sweaty body twitch with aftershocks under her lips – before cupping the writer's face in her hands and devouring her yet again.

Ricki moaned against Kate's lips, tasting herself on the detective.

"So…" Kate bit her lip. "What's the verdict, doctor?"

Lowering her face to Kate's chest, Ricki closed her eyes and pressed a soft, loving kiss to the scar resting in the valley between the detective's breasts. Ricki brushed her hands over Kate's shoulders as she lifted her gaze.

"Clean bill of health."

The two women kissed again, lowering themselves back onto the bed, their legs tangled together. They were both out of breath by the time their lips parted, and Ricki stared up into Kate's eyes, brushing her fingers along her cheek.

"Something to be said for not having to go to work."

"Mm." Kate brushed her nose against Ricki's. "It does have its advantages…"

They kissed again, before Kate lowered herself atop Ricki and rested her head on the other woman's shoulder. Ricki slipped her arms around Kate, her hand running up and down her warm, sweaty skin.

"Castle?"

"Hm?"

"I love you." She placed a kiss on Ricki's shoulder. "You know that, right?"

Ricki squeezed Kate with a soft laugh. "I think I have an idea, yeah."

"No, I mean it." Kate lifted herself just enough to look Ricki in the eyes. "I haven't always been that good at expressing myself. It's that wall…I don't always say what's on my mind."

"But you've been trying with me." Ricki leaned in for another kiss. "And I love you all the more for it."

"We'll get through this." Kate chewed on her lip. "Right?"

Ricki sat up a little, brushing a strand of hair off of Kate's forehead. Ricki's own brown locks framed her face, and if the look in Kate's eyes was any indication, she thought maybe she should wear her hair down more often.

"You know what I see?" Ricki brushed her fingers over Kate's scar. "This isn't a scar, Kate. It's a…a badge of honor. Your way of telling the world that you've been to hell and back, and you're still here. Life can throw whatever it wants at Kate Beckett; she took a sniper bullet to the heart and barely even flinched."

Kate huffed a laugh. "Right, cause almost a month in the hospital is barely flinching."

Ricki shrugged and smiled as wide as she could. "I like my version better."

* * *

_January 6, 1999…_

_Johanna Beckett's moment of vindication was at hand._

_Her colleagues had called her all manner of names – some playful, others somewhat vile – when she took on Joe Pulgatti's case. No one believed that a mobster was innocent in the murder of an undercover FBI agent, but from the first moment Pulgatti called her, something told Johanna things were off._

_It was too clean. Too open-and-shut. In her experience, that usually meant there was a cover-up._

_But for the first time in the almost six months she'd been working on Pulgatti's case, Johanna thought she might finally have something tangible to go with her gut instinct. She leaned against the wall by the elevator in the precinct, smiling with a phone clutched to her ear._

"_I'm sorry, Jim, I don't know what time I'll be home tonight." Johanna glanced down at her shoes, cringing at the smudge on the left one near the heel. "Tell you what, I'll take off early on Friday and the three of us can go have dinner. We can take Katie to that diner she loves so much."_

_Johanna shrugged, watching a pair of uniformed officers dragging a belligerent drug over to holding. She couldn't keep the smile off her face. "Well, forgive me for wanting to spoil my daughter rotten now that she's all the way out in California."_

_She laughed, twirling her dark hair in her finger with her free hand._

"_Sounds good. Look, I gotta go, babe. I'll call you when I'm on my way home. Give Katie a kiss for me. I love you."_

_Pocketing her phone, Johanna flagged down a uniform passing by. "Excuse me. I'm looking for a Detective Montgomery?"_

"_He's in interrogation right now, but you're free to wait by his desk."_

"_Thank you." Johanna crossed the bullpen, weaving through the desks. Phones were ringing off the hook, plain-clothed and uniformed officers scurrying about. She approached Montgomery's desk, which sat next to a white board, taking a seat in the chair beside the desk. The white board was cluttered, photographs and notes strewn about that, to the untrained eye, made no sense._

_Johanna liked to think of herself as a decent investigator, when the job called for it, but she couldn't make heads or tails of the board._

"_Can I help you, miss?"_

_Johanna stood and smiled. "Detective Montgomery?"_

_The black man with the thin moustache nodded and shook the dark-haired woman's hand, before tossing a yellow legal pad onto his desk. "Roy Montgomery."_

"_Johanna Beckett." She returned to her seat when Montgomery sat down in his own chair. "I'm a civil rights attorney."_

"_What can I do for you, Mrs. Beckett?" Montgomery smirked and pointed at the white board. "Please tell me you have a break in the Dobson case for us, because we're getting nowhere."_

"_Actually…I'm here about Joe Pulgatti."_

_Montgomery stiffened at the name, and something Johanna didn't recognize flashed in his eyes. He sat up a little straighter and adjusted his yellow tie, clearing his throat before regarding the woman sitting next to his desk again._

"_You're familiar."_

"_Yeah." Montgomery shook his head. "Mobster who killed an undercover FBI agent."  
_

"_Well, Detective, I have reason to believe he didn't do that."_

_Johanna watched as Montgomery shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. She half-expected him to tug at the collar of his shirt, his eyes dancing around the rest of the precinct. Fortunately for both of them, no one appeared to be paying much attention._

"_I have evidence." Johanna leaned in, lowering her voice. "Evidence suggesting three cops were making money on the side, abducting members of organized crime families and holding them for ransom."_

_Montgomery said nothing._

"_I have evidence implicating Detectives Raglan and McCallister, as well as Assistant District Attorney William Bracken." Johanna sighed. "But that evidence also implicates you, Detective."_

"_Are you interrogating me, Mrs. Beckett?"_

"_No, that's your job." Johanna sat back again, placing her briefcase in her lap and opening it. She pulled a business card out of one of the pockets, sliding it across the desk. "I'm not concerned with you or the other detectives. I want Bracken."_

_Montgomery's brows arched. "And you think I can help with that."_

"_In a manner of speaking." Johanna leaned in close again. "Bracken knows I'm close. He finds out I have this evidence, there's no telling what he'll do to me – or my family, for that matter."_

"_You want me to hide the evidence."_

"_That's the beauty of it, Detective." Johanna smiled. "You won't have to hide it. If Bracken knows you have it, he'll stop snooping around."_

_Montgomery leaned back in his chair with a sigh, running a hand over his face. He thought he was done with this; then again, he had been terribly naïve. He was still relatively young, a newbie on the force compared to some others. He was impressionable, short-sighted._

_If he wasn't careful, it would come back to bite him. Johanna's offer made as much sense as anything else._

"_Alright." He sighed. "Where's the evidence?"_

"_In a safe place." Johanna closed her briefcase, standing. "I'll come back on Friday, give it to you then." She closed the distance between them, shaking Montgomery's hand, leaning in so she could whisper in his ear. "Guard this tape with your life, Detective."_

* * *

_January 9, 1999…_

_As soon as the call from dispatch came through, Roy Montgomery left as fast as he could. Even without knowing who the victim was – a female body stabbed to death in an alley – Montgomery knew who it was. The stomach-churning realization rarely took hold of him like this, but every time it did, Montgomery wound up being right._

_He had to get to that body before the other cops. If she had that evidence on her, and the other cops found her first, things would unravel so quickly that Montgomery wouldn't be able to see straight before they took his badge._

_Somehow, he managed to beat investigators to the scene. He gagged when he laid eyes on Johanna's lifeless body. Why, he couldn't say – he'd seen his fair share of dead bodies, and some of them were in far worse shape than her. Yet Montgomery had to lean against the wall and take a few seconds to gather his bearings._

_Dropping to his knees, Montgomery looked over his shoulder. A large shoulder bag was on the ground next to Johanna, soaked in blood. Montgomery grabbed the bag, his heart pounding in his chest as he opened it and his eyes searched the contents._

_Nothing stuck out to him. Her notepad had nothing on it – aside from a note reminding her to meet Montgomery that night to hand over the evidence. Montgomery almost returned the notepad with a sigh, before his eyes caught writing in the bottom right-hand corner._

The elephants.

_Frowning, Montgomery shook his head, before he caught sight of a ceramic statue, a family of elephants lined up in a row. Shaking his head, Montgomery grabbed the statue, and when he lifted it out of her bag, he could hear something rattling around inside._

_He shook the statue again. More rattling._

_Montgomery stood, placing the statue on the inside of his leather coat, trapped between the material and his side. He glanced over his shoulder again before ducking out of the alley, making it about a block and a half before he heard sirens approaching from behind._

_The evidence wasn't safe with him. No matter what assurances Johanna had given him the other day, he knew better. The best thing he could do was to give the elephants back to Johanna's family, under the guise of a family heirloom._

_If Johanna's family kept the statue, unaware of what was in it, that was better for all involved._

_Right?_


	20. Chapter 20: Voice

_**Author's Note: Okay, so I'm a day early...I got some internet by miracle, and couldn't wait to post another chapter. Enjoy!**_

* * *

_Two weeks later…_

Ricki Castle couldn't sleep.

Tomorrow would be Kate Beckett's requalification in order to retrieve her service piece – the final hurdle in her quest to return to active duty with the Twelfth Precinct. Kate was the picture of calm, assuring Ricki that her ability to handle a gun would be the strongest asset to hold up against the city's scrutiny.

But it wasn't Kate's aptitude that worried Ricki. She didn't like the idea of Kate returning to work. Her agreement to shadow the detective still held – Gates over at IA had reluctantly agreed to keep the deal in place during Montgomery's investigation – but Ricki pictured something happening to Kate again.

Even worse, she feared Kate would freeze in the field. Let someone point a gun at her for the first time since her shooting. What would happen? Those target sheets at the range wouldn't test her the way she truly needed to be tested.

Ricki watched Kate sleeping, the detective curled up in her bed. The writer closed her laptop, deciding she'd put Nikki Heat through enough for one night – _Heat Wave_ still hadn't officially been released yet, but Black Pawn was already asking for a sequel.

Just as Ricki stood to join her lover in bed, her desk phone rang. Ricki cringed, grabbing the device as quickly as she could, lest the ringing wake Kate.

"Castle."

"_Ricki Castle_." Ricki frowned. She didn't recognize the voice. "_We need to talk._"

"Who is this?"

"_I'm a friend of Roy Montgomery._" Ricki sat at her desk again, feeling a pit opening in her stomach. "_I'm afraid we have a problem._"

"You're damn right you do." Ricki couldn't hide her anger toward the anonymous voice on the other line – it may not have belonged to the person responsible for everything, but right now, it seemed as good an outlet for Ricki's frustration as anything. "It's not enough that she was gunned down by a sniper, but now she finds out that her boss might've had a hand in her mother's death?"

"_Roy didn't kill Johanna Beckett._" Ricki flinched at how…detached the voice sounded. "_But he knows who did. Just like I do._"

"Then here's an idea…" Ricki watched Kate roll over, closing her eyes with relief when she figured the detective hadn't woken up. She tried to keep her voice down, even as the emotion ran high. "Tell us!"

"_I can't do that. You two are in enough danger as it is._"

"Is that a threat?" Ricki sat up, scowling.

"_No. I'm not the one you need to fear. Last week, Roy Montgomery sent me a package in the mail. That package contained very sensitive information – information that would be very damaging to the person responsible for Johanna Beckett's death._"

"Why not just release the information?"

"_Montgomery struck a deal. In exchange for Katherine's safety, he agreed to keep the file hidden. On one condition._"

Ricki nodded. "She stopped pursuing the case."

"_You're a lot smarter than you look, Ms. Castle._" The sound of the voice chuckling sent an icy chill down the writer's spine. "_The deal was broken the second you connected the Coonan murder to Johanna Beckett's._"

"Then why are you calling me?"

"_Because Roy Montgomery changed the game. He went ahead and released the file_."

"No, he didn't." Ricki stood and started to pace in her office. "That file has nothing to do with whoever killed Johanna Beckett."

"_Yes, it does. You're just not looking in the right place._"

"Let me guess…" Ricki shook her head. "The deal starts anew? She stops looking into the case, she's safe? Again?" Ricki's free hand balled into a fist, and her attempts to hide her anger were failing – to the point where she went into the living room in hopes of her rising voice not waking Kate.

"No." She sucked in a deep breath. "_Fuck. You_. I am not going to go behind her back, steering her away from her mother's case because of some ominous voice calling me in the middle of the night. I don't know you from _fucking_ Adam, and if you have any idea who I am, you know I've written enough of these scenes in my time to know they always end badly."

"_That's a shame, Ms. Castle._" The voice sighed. "_I'm afraid you underestimate who you're up against._"

"And I'm afraid you underestimate how far I'm willing to go for the woman I love."

"_They will kill her, Ms. Castle._"

"Let them try." Ricki's nostrils flared, returning to her office, her heart skipping a beat when she caught sight of the woman still sound asleep in her bed. "They'll find _we're_ the ones to be reckoned with."

* * *

_Somewhere in Manhattan…_

As soon as the white-haired man named Mr. Smith hung up with a frustrated sigh, he felt cold steel pressed into the back of his head. He sat perfectly still at his desk, studying the files and newspaper articles strewn about the surface. The article about Detective Beckett's shooting, head shots of Roy Montgomery and Ricki Castle. Photographs from the Johanna Beckett crime scene.

The gun barrel pressed harder against Mr. Smith's head, and his hands gripped the arms of his chair so tightly that his knuckles lost all color. He swallowed, dark eyes lifting to focus on the fire burning in the fireplace on the other side of his office.

"That couldn't have gone worse." The cold voice behind Mr. Smith was accompanied by the sound of the gun cocking. Mr. Smith flinched, despite himself, tightening his grip on the chair even more.

"It's not my fault the novelist was unreasonable."

"No." Cole Maddox crossed in front of Mr. Smith, now pointing the barrel of his gun against the older man's forehead. "I guess it's not. Just means my body count's gonna be a little higher than I originally planned."

"The mystery writer?" Mr. Smith shook his head. "You're really asking for it, aren't you?"

Maddox smirked and shook his head. "I'll kill Beckett first. Make Castle watch." He shrugged, waving the gun around dramatically before pressing it against Mr. Smith's forehead again. "I'm glad your little bluff failed. My trigger finger's been awful itchy these past few days."

Mr. Smith shook his head. "He's getting desperate, isn't he?"

"Nah." Maddox shook his head. "I wouldn't call him desperate. I'd say he's more…impatient."

Maddox pulled the trigger, flinching when the loud blast was muffled by the _splat_ of flesh and blood, bits of Mr. Smith's skull hitting Maddox in the forehead as he flinched – both at the recoil and at the mess.

"So am I."

Maddox grabbed a white handkerchief from his pocket, wiping the blood off of his face before cleaning off his gun. Pocketing the weapon, Maddox grabbed the head shot of Ricki Castle, squinting as he studied it.

He glanced at the desk again, smiling when he saw an address to an apartment complex in SoHo. Grabbing that slip of paper, and pocketing Castle's head shot, Maddox left the study with purpose, ignoring the white-haired man now slumped to the side at his desk, blood still trickling from the hole in his forehead.

* * *

_The Twelfth Precinct…_

Without a word, Kate Beckett strode into the captain's office – which was currently occupied by Victoria Gates from Internal Affairs. An interim captain had not yet been named for the course of Roy Montgomery's investigation, so Gates was serving as placeholder – on top of her duties leading the investigation.

Kate slapped a folded-up piece of paper onto Gates' desk without so much as a word, regarding the other woman with a serious, purposeful gaze. Gates noticed Ricki standing just outside the doorway, narrowing her eyes. _Damned outsider…_

Grabbing her glasses from a stack of paperwork, and putting them on, Gates unfolded the piece of paper. She studied the target sheet from the shooting range, her eyes immediately drawn to the giant collection of holes in the 10 ring.

Her eyes flickered back up to Kate.

"I want. My gun."

Setting the paper down, Gates opened a drawer and retrieved a service piece before handing it to Kate. The detective grabbed the weapon, smiling in self-satisfaction once she again felt the weight of it in her palm.

"Welcome back, Detective."

Kate cleared her throat, her smile turning into a scowl. "Thank you."

Gates noticed the shift in Kate's demeanor, removing her glasses again and squinting. "Something on your mind, Detective?"

Kate took a deep breath. "The boys tell me you shut down the investigation." She cocked her head to the side. "My shooting."

"I did." Gates stood and crossed to the front of her desk, folding her arms over her chest and leaning against the edge. "There's been no lead in almost a month. We've got homicides piling up at our door every day, and by the way? Your captain is under investigation."

"They're not me, sir."

Gates' eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"Ryan and Esposito. They're good cops, but…they're not me."

"I don't know what kind of operation Montgomery was running around here…" Gates' eyes flicked over to Ricki, ignoring the writer's scowl. "But I will run for mayor before I let one of my detectives investigate their own shooting."

"Sir—"

"Get out of my office." Gates sat in her chair again. "Ryan and Esposito are at a crime scene right now. They'll fill you in upon their return."

* * *

_The break room…_

"I don't like her."

Kate couldn't hide the smile on her face. She had her badge and gun on her hip again, and she watched as her lover masterfully worked over a state-of-the-art espresso machine Ricki had bought for the precinct while they were investigating who shot Kate.

"Yeah, well…" Kate shrugged. "She's no Montgomery."

Ricki joined Kate at the table with two steaming mugs in-hand, handing one to Kate. The detective took a sip, the smile on her face growing. Ricki always knew just how to make her coffee.

"Look…" Ricki sighed. "There's something I need to tell you."

Kate frowned, both of her hands wrapped around the warm mug. "Don't tell me Gates is kicking you out."

"No." Ricki sipped at her own mug. "Though…if it comes to that, I can always have the mayor run interference."

Kate reached across the table to take one of Ricki's hands into her own. Ricki squeezed that hand, taking in a deep breath before staring Kate in the eyes. For a moment, Ricki found herself lost in them again.

"Castle…what is it?"

"Last night, I got a phone call." Ricki swallowed. "While you were asleep. No name, number didn't come up on my caller ID. He said…he was a friend of Montgomery's, and that we had a problem."

Dread threatened to overwhelm Kate, and she reached up with her free hand to toy with the ring hanging around her neck. She grabbed her mug again, pushing down that dread with a swig from her drink. "A problem."

"He mentioned the deal Montgomery had…the one where he kept certain files hidden so long as those responsible for your mother's death left you alone."

Kate nodded. "So long as I stopped investigating her case."

"Right." Ricki took another sip. "He said the file points to who killed your mother, if one knew where to look. He also said…" Ricki squeezed Kate's hand. "He said he wanted to begin the deal anew, keep you safe so long as you stopped investigating."

"But…" Kate shook her head. Her hair had grown out in recent weeks, now almost reaching to her shoulders before flaring out at the ends. "The file's already been released. I don't see where it's a deal so much as an attempt to shut me out."

"And they wanted to use me to do it."

Kate pushed the mug away from herself. "What…?"

"The voice asked me to stop you from pursuing the case." Ricki shook her head. "Well, he didn't say those exact words, but I could tell that was the point he wanted to get across."

Kate grabbed Ricki's hand with both of hers, leaning in and staring into the writer's eyes. She swallowed thickly, her fingers starting to tremble. They stopped when Ricki squeezed her hand. "What did you tell him?"

"That I won't do it." Ricki shook her head. "I'm not gonna go behind your back making deals. We're gonna deal with this, Kate, and we're gonna do it head-on. Together."

"Why do I get the feeling he didn't take that too well?"

"He said they were gonna kill you, Kate." Ricki joined her lover on the same side of the table, slipping an arm around her waist and pressing their bodies together. Ricki didn't care who saw what; she just needed Kate to know whose corner she was in on this.

Kate smiled at the look in Ricki's eyes, her hands roaming up the writer's back. She wanted to thank Ricki for her support, for having her back even when she didn't know it, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, she leaned in to press her lips to Ricki's…only to roll her eyes when there was a knock at the break room door.

She tried to hide the annoyance in her eyes when she saw Ryan and Esposito standing there.

"What?" Kate and Ricki unfurled themselves from each other. "The welcome back can't wait another twenty seconds?"

The two male detectives exchanged a glance, and Kate saw the worry in their eyes. Her hand linked with Ricki's, and they squeezed in unison. Ryan cleared his throat as Esposito walked into the room, handing a manila folder to Kate.

"That murder we were called in on this morning?" Esposito pointed at the folder as Kate opened it. "A John Doe shot in the forehead at point-blank range. CSU and ballistics are still combing over the place, but preliminary reports indicate…"

Kate looked at Ricki with worried eyes. "…Fingerprints are a match to the sniper rifle used to shoot me."


	21. Chapter 21: Dedication

_**Author's Note: I feel like another apology is in order, for an entirely different reason.**_

* * *

_Two weeks later…_

Compared to the launch party for _Storm Fall_, the celebration of _Heat Wave_'s official launch was a low-key, quiet affair. There was plenty of press, to be sure, and the fans were as numerous as before – there was a lot of buzz surrounding Ricki Castle's new character. But the music wasn't thumping quite as loudly, and though Ricki partook in her drink, she was neither chugging nor staring at the masses like a lion on the prowl.

Not that she wasn't trying to look her best, wearing a black button-down with royal blue and white striped tie, a brand-new pair of jeans and her best pair of boots. Ricki wore her hair down, wavy brown locks splayed out over her shoulders. She was dressed to impress tonight, but there was only one set of eyes she was hoping to please.

The man sitting with her at the bar was not that person.

"I don't think you've _ever_ turned in a manuscript that quickly." Paul smirked and downed the rest of his beer. "Don't suppose that means _Deadly Heat_ will be in by the end of the month?"

"I'm good." Ricki smirked. "But not _that_ good."

"I'm serious." Paul scratched at his stubble, leaning in. "The last three Storm books, it was like pulling teeth getting you to turn in something. But with _Heat Wave_, you're handing in a draft when I didn't even know you were working on something. What happened."

Ricki shrugged, unable to keep the smile off of her face. "I've been inspired."

"Inspired." Paul shook his head. "What could've possibly—"

Seeing the subtle shift in Ricki's face, the awe pouring into her eyes, Paul frowned and let his gaze follow suit – until he saw a tall woman walk into the room, a blue dress stopping at mid-thigh and hugging at every possible curve. Brown hair spun in waves around her face, and for a second, Paul got lost in a pair of hazel eyes.

He swallowed hard before Ricki smacked him on the arm.

"Down boy." Ricki grinned and set aside her empty glass, leaving Paul alone at the bar and weaving her way through the crowd. The two women's eyes met, and Kate's smile broadened as she ducked her head. Ricki got to her, raising her chin to plant a long, soft kiss to her lips.

They heard camera shutters going off, knew what the accompanying flashes meant, but at the moment, they didn't care.

"Hi."

"Hey." Kate bit her lower lip. "Sorry I'm late. Couldn't get away from the precinct."

Ricki's eyes gave Kate a once-over, and the writer bit her lip for an entirely different reason. Trying desperately to maintain her self-control – for another hour or two, at least – Ricki brushed aside a strand of Kate's hair instead. "You look so fucking amazing tonight that I'm willing to let it slide."

"Good." Kate kissed Ricki again. "Because I have a gun."

Laughing and giving Kate's hand a squeeze, Ricki snuck in for another kiss, thankful for a night of nothing but smiles and fun. There hadn't been much of either in recent weeks – they had managed as best they could, but between Kate's shooting and everything surrounding it, the tension was beyond palpable.

A night out on the town, even if it was technically work for Ricki, was just what the proverbial doctor ordered.

"You haven't seen it yet."

Kate frowned. "Seen what?"

"The dedication." Ricki glanced back at the bar, rolling her eyes. "My publicist is summoning me again. Go. Check it out."

Kate smirked as Ricki returned to the bar, approaching a short man in wire-rim glasses who was just shaking his head at her. Tucking her blue pocketbook under her arm, Kate glanced over her shoulder before approaching a stack of _Heat Wave_ hardcovers. She tried to ignore the cameras that were clearly focusing on her, fighting the urge to flash both badge and gun.

But she knew being with Ricki brought with it a certain amount of public persona – not to mention the fact that she was also known as the cop who was gunned down by a sniper but lived. Silently glad her dress covered her scar, Kate grabbed one of the copies of _Heat Wave_, her fingers trailing over the spine with reverence.

This wasn't just a new Ricki Castle novel. It was a novel about her. It was, for all intents and purposes, Ricki's love letter to Kate. She had been flattered when Ricki first admitted to basing a character on her, but after reading the advance copy, Kate was truly at a loss.

Her heart fluttering in her chest, Kate opened the front cover and flipped the first few pages. Her eyes found the two lines in the center of the page before the table of contents, and her breath caught in her throat.

_To the extraordinary KB_

_Whose love and bravery make all things possible_

So overwhelmed by her lover's words, was Kate, that she hadn't noticed Ricki at her side again. She looked at the writer with glassy eyes, smiling and placing the book back on its spot before tracing Ricki's jawline with her finger. "Castle, it's…" Kate shook her head.

"I meant it." Ricki gave Kate a soft kiss. "You _are_ extraordinary."

The two women shared a long, tight hug – and predictably, the flashbulbs sprung to life again. Kate cursed under her breath and Ricki squeezed her before pulling out of the embrace. "Castle…"

"I know." Ricki kissed Kate's cheek. "My publicist already knows what to do."

Kate quirked a brow and cocked her head. "Meaning…?"

"Meaning that if anything they print isn't true, or doesn't paint our relationship in an accurate light, I pursue action. Legal, if necessary." Ricki locked arms with Kate, leading her away from the crowd. "Paul has already instructed the media to refer to you by your full name and NYPD rank, and that if they insist on remarking upon the nature of our relationship, they are to mention that we are exclusive and serious."

Kate huffed a laugh. "That'll put a damper in your bad girl image."

"I think I've outgrown that anyway." Ricki shrugged. "Besides…the cameras, the paparazzi? The constant attention? That's my world, not yours. I don't want this relationship to tarnish your reputation or hurt your career in any way."

Kate gave Ricki a kiss of gratitude, thankful that they had slipped into another room, away from the hustle and bustle of the book launch. Ricki's obligations for the night were over, and she could technically leave now without Black Pawn getting too uptight – well, aside from the inevitable call from George.

Kate's expression soured, and when Ricki turned around to see what made the smile disappear from her lover's face, a chill ran down her spine. The hand not intertwined with Kate's balled into a fist, and Ricki sucked in a deep breath.

"What is _he_ doing here?"

"Hell if I know…" Ricki made a beeline for the door, stopping inches from the man who'd wandered through the threshold. "You've got a lot of nerve…"

Roy Montgomery sighed and shook his head. His dark eyes wandered to Kate, but once he saw the daggers her eyes were firing his way, he decided he was better off taking his chances with the writer.

"We need to talk."

"Do we?" Ricki's eyes narrowed. "What's the matter? Run out of shadowy, distant voices to call me in the middle of the night, telling me to back off?"

Ricki knew the man who had called her two nights ago was dead, probably murdered not long after the phone call in question. Kate hadn't shared many of the details with Ricki about it, but that was probably because Ryan and Esposito weren't sharing many details with her.

Given the connection to Johanna's murder, Ricki understood.

Deciding to ignore Ricki's anger, Montgomery shrugged and looked at Kate. "At the very least, I'm gonna lose my badge. Likely looking at jail time, too."

Kate folded her arms across her chest. "Good."

"I deserve whatever I get." Montgomery shrugged again before taking a seat in the far end of the room. Kate stood right where she was, with Ricki by her side. "I was a first-year when I got wrangled in with Raglan and McCallister. Way over my head, not nearly brave enough to stand up to them."

"So…what?" Ricki shook her head. "You started rationalizing it? Helped yourself sleep at night by thinking, 'Oh, it's just a few mobsters. Not like anyone'll miss them or anything'."

"That's exactly what I did." Montgomery scratched at his chin. "But then we offed Armen by accident…and things got a little too real for me."

Kate rolled her eyes. "And you were in so deep by that point, you couldn't get out."

"Once Bracken got involved, I was stuck." Montgomery stood and began pacing in front of Kate and Ricki, trying his best not to meet their scathing gazes. He deserved them – well, he deserved Kate's – but he couldn't bring himself to face that reality. "He threatened to publicize our scheme if we didn't cut him in on the money."

Kate shook her head. "Why?"

Ricki turned to the detective. "He was getting ready for his first run at Congress."

"I wish that was the worst thing we could say about Bracken." Montgomery approached the two women, stopping when Ricki stepped in between him and Kate. Ricki lifted her chin and narrowed her gaze, arms folded over her chest. "Look…everything was going fine until Pulgatti lawyered up."

Kate stepped forward, her fingers trailing along the side of Ricki's arm. Their eyes met, and the detective gave a single nod. Reluctantly, Ricki stepped aside.

"Roy." Kate's voice shook. "What happened?"

Montgomery's eyes darted to the floor, before he forced himself to look at the detective. He breathed in a heavy sigh, thinking back to the year he brought Kate Beckett to Homicide, thinking he could harness her tenacity and turn her into the best detective the city had. And he'd done just that – all while harboring this terrible secret.

"Three nights before her murder, Johanna came to the precinct to see me." A small grin crossed Montgomery's face. "Back then, your desk was mine. She said she knew about the scheme, knew that the three of us were in on it with Bracken."

Ricki shook her head. "And you fucking narc'd on her."

"No." Montgomery kept his gaze square on Kate. "She said she had evidence implicating Bracken and exonerating her client. Johanna said Bracken was all she cared about. She also said this evidence was a danger to her. She wanted me to have it. Kate…" Montgomery heaven another sigh. "She was supposed to give me the evidence the night she was murdered."

Kate took a step back, a stunned look on her face. Ricki grabbed her by the hand and soothingly ran circles over the back of the detective's hand with her thumb. Kate's lower lip quivered, her eyes turning glassy.

"I got to the scene before Raglan and McCallister." Montgomery stared at the floor. "I found the evidence and took it before anyone else could find it."

Ricki shook her head. "The file?"

Montgomery shook his head. "No. It was…it's a tape. Implicating the person responsible for Johanna's murder."

Kate swallowed as a tear rolled down her cheek. "Where is it?"

Montgomery approached the two women, leaning in to keep his voice down – even though they were the only three people in the room and the _thump_ of the music on the other side of the door would've likely drowned out whatever he had to say.

"It's been right in front of you for years."

Before either Kate or Ricki could react, Montgomery turned and walked out of the room, turning to the right once he was on the sidewalk outside. Ricki gritted her teeth and shook her head, the hand not tangled with Kate's curling into a fist.

Kate sucked in a ragged breath, another couple tears falling from her eyes. "Castle…"

Without a word, Ricki bolted from the room, running purposefully onto the sidewalk in pursuit of Montgomery. She heard Kate call her name in protest, following as best she could in her heels, but adrenaline and anger combined to make the writer close the distance to Montgomery before grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around.

"_Fuck you!_" Ricki pushed Montgomery as hard as she could, tears in her eyes. "Who the _fuck _do you think you are, waltzing into our special night like this, dropping this bombshell on us! What did you think would happen? _Huh?!_"

"Ricki—"

"Did you think you could make everything right?!" Ricki grabbed the collar of Montgomery's leather jacket, tugging. "You leave Kate some cryptic-ass message about her mother's death, and all's forgiven?"

Kate gasped when Ricki slammed a right cross into Montgomery's nose, dropping the man.

"You're a worthless sack of shit, you know that, Roy?!"

"Ricki!"

The writer ignored her lover, dropping to a knee to grab Montgomery by his coat again. Blood trickled from his nose, and his eyes were full of remorse. Ricki gritted her teeth again, raising her right arm for another blow – only to have the commotion of the night interrupted by a silenced gunshot.

Ricki's eyes went wide. Her mouth fell open.

Before either Montgomery or Kate could react, Ricki toppled to her left, falling to the pavement as the few passersby on the sidewalk scurried for cover, screaming in panic. Montgomery leapt to his knees, eyes scanning the surrounding rooftops. Before he could roll Ricki onto her back, Kate pushed him out of the way, tears in her eyes, smearing her makeup.

"_Ricki!_"

Ricki cringed and gasped when she wound up on her back, a pool of red on the sidewalk. Kate loosened the writer's tie with shaky fingers, her hands and lower lip quivering. Unbuttoning Ricki's shirt, Kate fought the urge to vomit when she saw the hole in Ricki's left side, blood oozing onto her skin.

"Ricki, no!" Kate cupped the writer's face in her hands, trying to sooth away the fear in her brown eyes. Kate brushed strands of hair out of Ricki's face, crying harder with each ragged gasp for air.

"God, Ricki…please, just…please stay with me!" She gave Ricki a frantic kiss, biting back a sob as she heard Montgomery talking to dispatch to get police and medical personnel to the scene. Flashbulbs burst to life to Kate's left; the assembled media had gotten much more than they had bargained for that night.

"Ricki…" Another kiss. "Please…Ricki, hold on for me. Please, baby. _Please!_"

"Kate…"

Ricki looked up at her lover, her eyes glassy, her skin pale and clammy. She tried to smile, but the sharp intake of breath reminded her of the searing pain in her side, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

"Ricki!"

Once the sirens whined to life in the distance, Ricki's eyes fell closed.


	22. Chapter 22: Here We Go Again

_**Author's Note: In an effort to calm a few reviewers' concerns...rest assured that if this fic were to, at any point, feature a MAJOR character death, I would warn everyone as such, since I know there are readers (such as myself) who like to avoid such fics for a variety of reasons. So no character deaths of that magnitude - just lots of angst and drama and shit going down.**_

* * *

_Later that night…_

One could forgive Kate Beckett if she had a sense of déjà vu. After all, it wasn't all that long ago that she was in surgery, the victim of a sniper's bullet. The only difference this time was that she was now pacing in the waiting room, her hands trembling. She was waiting. It was all she could do, and Kate hated waiting.

She felt helpless. She felt responsible. With every minute that ticked off that clock on the wall, she felt the guilt resting down just a little bit harder over her heart. She clutched at her scar, the raised, darkened area of skin that marked her own survival.

Detectives Ryan and Esposito swore they would be in soon, but they were busy chasing down the shooter. Esposito said CSU found the weapon this time, and if they were lucky, there would be prints.

Kate had left five voicemails for her father in the past hour. She realized how late it was, but she knew how fond of Ricki he was – and truth be told, she really needed her Jim right now.

Martha and Alexis were expected at any moment; Kate had gotten a hold of Martha as she rode in the back of the ambulance, and Martha said she would pull Alexis from an all-night sleepover with her friends before coming to the hospital.

Kate forced herself to sit down, and she was completely oblivious to her surroundings. This was all her fault. She agreed to let Ricki Castle shadow her, which dragged the mystery writer into the baggage that was her mother's unsolved murder. Ricki was in danger so long as she was associated with Kate in any way, and that reality broke her heart in a way it hadn't been broken in a long while.

But dammit, why did Ricki have to go after Montgomery like that? Why couldn't she have just let Kate deal with him? After all, she was the one who'd grown to trust and borderline idolize the man. What gave Castle the right to fly off the handle at him like that?

Kate looked up just in time to see Jim walk through the double doors, and as if her body were on auto-pilot, she rose to her feet and practically ran to him before throwing her arms around her father's shoulders and burying her face into his suit. She let out a pained sob while Jim squeezed her and rubbed her back.

"What happened, Katie?"

Kate shook her head and wiped at her eyes as Jim lowered them onto one of the couches, her lower lip quivering as badly as her fingers. "It's all my fault, dad…I never should've let her shadow me, I never should've let her be my partner. But now she's in this and she's in the crosshairs and she's gonna die and now Alexis is gonna be without a mother and it's all my fault!"

"Katie." Jim grabbed his daughter by the shoulders, looking her in the eye. "No. Don't do this to yourself. The only person at fault is the one who pulled that trigger, okay?"

Kate nodded as the door burst open again, and the detective looked up just in time to see a redheaded teenager approaching her, hands curled into fists, striking blue eyes puffy and bloodshot. Kate tore away her gaze, unable to look Alexis in the eye.

"Tell me it's not true." Alexis smacked Kate across the face. "Tell me it's not true!"

"_Alexis!_" Martha appeared seemingly out of nowhere, grabbing the teenager by her shoulders and leading her away. The elder redhead wore a look of horror, exchanging a glance with Jim before shaking her head. "I am so sorry…"

"No, Martha." Kate swallowed. "I deserve that."

"What on _earth_ are you talking about, Katherine?"

"It's my fault." Kate wiped at her eyes again. "I dragged her into my mom's case and now…"

Martha sat beside Kate, taking the detective's hand into her own with a weary sigh as Alexis found a seat as far away from Kate as possible before dropping herself into it. Smudged mascara framed the older woman's eyes, but she sat straight up and carried herself with at least the air of confidence.

"You listen to me, Katherine. My daughter was not dragged into anything. She has been by your side of her own free will from day one."

Kate stared at her own hands, which were cradled in her lap. "Well, maybe she shouldn't have been."

"I had that exact conversation with Rebecca when you were in the hospital." Martha waved her hand. "It did absolutely no good."

"Katie…" Jim and Martha exchanged a look. "Look, I know you mean well. You're scared and you're hurt and your first instinct is to run, like it's always been when things got tough. But you need to remember something." Kate finally raised her eyes to meet her father's. "When you were in here, she was with you, day in and day out. A lotta days, we had to beg her to leave just to get a shower or a bite to eat."

Martha squeezed Kate's shoulder. "Tell me something, darling. Would you trade anything that's happened between you two for the world?"

"You mean other than watching her get shot?"

Martha nodded.

"No." Kate shook her head and her eyes filled with tears again.

"Then be there for her, darling." Martha gave Kate's hand a squeeze, leaning in to place a soft kiss to her temple. "She's gonna need you."

Jim smiled. "I don't think you could stay away from her if you tried, anyway."

The corners of Kate's mouth twitched, as if a smile were about to break out, but she glanced in Alexis' direction. The anger in the teenager's face twisted at Kate's gut, and she looked down at the floor. If Ricki died, Alexis would never forgive her. Nor should she, really, but at the same time, both Martha and Jim were right.

If Ricki pulled through…Kate thought she could push the writer away in the interest of her safety, but the truth was, the idea of living her life without Ricki by her side made Kate feel ill. She couldn't do that. She needed Ricki as much as Ricki needed her.

The double doors to the waiting room swung open again, as Ryan and Esposito burst into the room. Esposito had a look on his face Kate had only seen once or twice over the years they'd worked together, and she stood once they locked eyes. She gave Martha and Jim a nod before walking over to Esposito.

"Please tell me we're getting somewhere this time."

Esposito held up a folded-up slip of paper. "We got a name and an address."

"Guy goes by the name Cole Maddox," Ryan chimed in. "We're pretty sure it's an alias. He's former Special Forces, apparently one of the best at what he did."

Kate frowned. "Who's he working for?"

"Dunno." Ryan shook his head. "My guess? Someone like Bracken."

"We're about to go after him now." Esposito pocketed the slip of paper. "I know you wanna be here for Castle, but I figured you might want a shot at taking down the bastard who almost killed you."

Kate looked over her shoulder in time to see Martha and Jim join the trio of cops. Jim placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "Go, Katie."

"You sure?"

"You won't miss anything here, darling." Martha shook her head. "Rebecca will probably be in surgery for several more hours. Go. Catch the bastard."

"Thank you, Martha." Kate leaned in to kiss her dad's cheek. "I love you, dad."

* * *

_Midtown…_

The three detectives secured their bulletproof vests and checked to make sure everything was in order with their service pieces. Kate paused to catch a glimpse of her eyes in the rear view mirror, sucking in a deep breath and letting her fingers trail over the ring hanging around her neck.

"Yo, Beckett. You alright?"

She sucked in another deep breath, grabbing her service piece with both hands. She'd wondered the same thing herself, in the recesses of her own insecurities. This was to be her first live action since her shooting, and she'd be lying if she said there wasn't some trepidation. She'd even discussed as such with Dr. Burke, but this was one of those things she would only figure out with experience.

"Let's do this, Javi." She clenched her jaw as the three detectives got out of the car and poured into the apartment building in question. "The sooner we take this bastard down, the better I'll feel."

Esposito and Ryan exchanged a nod as the trio approached the apartment in question, before Esposito, who also had a shotgun strapped to his back, pounded his fist against the door. "NYPD! Open up!"

Silence.

Esposito banged against the door again. "NYPD! Open the _fuck_ up!"

More silence.

Another nod shared between Ryan and Esposito, before both detectives glanced at Kate. She drew in another deep breath, straightening her posture before nodding. The two men nodded in kind. Esposito kicked the door off of its frame, the sound of breaking wood drowning out his growl. Ryan and Beckett fell in behind him in perfect synchronicity before the trio poured into the apartment.

Ryan disappeared into a room to Kate's left, before Esposito did the same to her right. Kate took the living room area, furrowing her brow. For the most part, everything appeared normal – until she reached a circular table against the back wall, where a laptop and several photo albums sat.

"Clear!"

"Clear."

Kate shook her head, grabbing the photo album that read _Roy and Evelyn Montgomery's wedding_. "Guys…"

The other two detectives joined Kate at the table, frowning as she flipped through the pages. For the most part, the entire album was rather unremarkable – until they reached a page in which one of the photographs was missing.

"What was this guy looking for?"

"Not what." Kate pointed at the missing photograph. "Who."

Before any of the detectives could comment or react, Ryan felt himself being driven to the ground. He lost his handle on his service piece, the side of his head slamming against the hardwood floor. By the time Kate and Esposito whirled around to find their attacker, Cole Maddox grabbed Esposito around his neck and disarmed with a graceful swipe of his free arm.

Kate raised her weapon and pointed it at Maddox's forehead.

"_Freeze!_"

Maddox smirked. "Detective Beckett." Esposito struggled in Maddox's grasp, before the assassin rolled his eyes and tossed Esposito against the wall. His handgun fell to the ground, and Maddox ducked just as the bullet fired from Kate's gun burrowed into the wall.

Maddox's elbow cracked into Esposito's nose, and the detective dropped to the floor unconscious.

"You're like a damn cockroach, Detective."

"I said freeze!"

"I know what you said." Maddox smirked again. "I also know you're not gonna pull that trigger again."

Kate cocked her weapon and took a step forward. "That so?"

Maddox stayed completely still, his arms hanging loosely at his sides and a smug grin on his face. His eyes narrowed and he shook his head. "You don't have the nerve."

Flipping the weapon in her hand, Kate swung until the butt of her service piece cracked Maddox just under his left eye. Maddox recoiled with a grunt before straightening and smiling even more – all while blood trickled down his cheek.

"You put a bullet in my heart." Kate whacked Maddox with the butt of her gun again, this time opening a cut along his right cheek. "You gunned down my girlfriend. Who knows what else you've done?"

Her gun slammed into Maddox's chin, and he actually stumbled backward a couple steps. Kate closed the distance again, pointing the barrel of her weapon under his chin.

"I will _end_ you." Her teeth gnashed together. "But not before you tell me who you work for."

Maddox laughed and shook his head, before reaching up to wrap a hand around Kate's neck. He lifted her off the ground, and when his fingers dug into her neck, Kate gasped for air and loosened her grip on her weapon. Maddox took the gun from her with his free hand, before slamming her back-first onto the table and pointing her own weapon at her neck.

"You already know the answer." Maddox's jaw clenched, and he tightened his grip on her even more. "Don't you?"

Kate gasped for air, trying to buck herself off of the table, her fingernails clawing at Maddox's wrists. His grip held firm, though, and the more she struggled, the more Kate felt everything going dim. She was getting lightheaded. Focusing was almost impossible.

Her legs flailed, and she was just conscious enough to register the sensation. Gritting her teeth, Kate slammed her left leg between Maddox's legs, relishing in the sensation of her thigh connecting solidly with what was probably the most sensitive part of his body. Fortunately, he stumbled, losing his grip on Kate.

She leapt to her feet, grabbing her weapon again before kicking Maddox in his midsection. He stumbled onto his back, and Kate straddled him, pointing her service piece against his forehead again.

"William Bracken." She pressed the barrel harder against his skin. "Where is he?"

"How should I know?" Maddox grabbed Kate by the wrist and disarmed her before she had a chance to react, pushing himself off of her. As she tumbled along the floor, he straddled her, pinning her down by her shoulder and pointing her own weapon at her. "He's a busy man."

Kate bucked against Maddox's body weight, finding herself trapped between his body and the hardwood floor. His fingers dug into her shoulder. Kate's eyes locked with his, and the total lack of emotion in his eyes unnerved her unlike anything else in their entire drama.

"Shame it had to come to this, Detective." Maddox pointed Kate's service piece at her forehead. "You two were really hot together."

A shotgun blast rang out into the apartment, and before Kate had a chance to react, she saw a hole torn into Maddox's chest. Blood spatter coated her as Maddox's lifeless body teetered forward and ultimately fell off to the side. Kate closed her eyes and swallowed, before trying to get her breathing back under control.

She looked up in time to see Esposito gathering himself back up, blood trickling down the side of his head. He finally managed to stand, placing his shotgun back in its holster and giving Kate a nod.

"You good, Espo?"

"Five by five." Esposito glanced over his shoulder. "Ryan needs an ambulance."

From somewhere Kate couldn't see, she heard a groggy "No I don't…"

Esposito held out a hand, which Kate took, grunting when she was finally upright again. She grabbed her service piece and holstered it, fighting off the urge to be sick when she saw what was left of Maddox's body, Kate shook her head.

Maddox's involvement left more questions to be answered, but at least he more or less confirmed Senator Bracken's involvement. Kate had wondered about it from the moment Montgomery's file had been released, and Maddox's lack of denial told Kate all she needed to know.

But that could wait. She had more pressing matters.

"Let's get the hell out of here." Kate stared out the window. "I need to get back to the hospital."


	23. Chapter 23: Meeting Like This

_The next day…_

Everything since the confrontation with Cole Maddox had been a blur. Somewhere along the way, Kate had changed clothes and taken two showers – just one wasn't enough to get Maddox's blood off of her. She gave two statements to investigating officers, along with Ryan and Esposito, partly because she couldn't focus enough on her first statement.

There had been just one place she wanted to be, and the logistical nonsense surrounding Maddox's death was keeping her from being there. By the time Kate was finally allowed to leave, it was almost three in the morning.

Though it was now almost ten in the morning, the waiting room was sparse; only Jim and Martha remained, huddled up against themselves on opposite ends of a couch, asleep. The detective's eyes scanned for Alexis, who was nowhere to be found. With any luck, she was at school.

While Kate didn't blame Alexis for her anger, she didn't want to deal with it right now.

Kate took a seat on the far side of the waiting room, running her fingers through her hair and expelling a ragged breath. She barely noticed when the door leading into the belly of the hospital opened, and the clearing of a throat snapped her out of her trance.

"Excuse me." The tall doctor kept his voice low. "Is there a…Kate Beckett here?"

Kate stood. "That's me."

Relief washed over the doctor's ashen face. "Ah, excellent. Ms. Castle is awake and she's asking for you." The doctor actually smiled a little. "Well, more like insisting."

Blinking back tears, Kate nodded and followed the doctor down the drab hall. So focused on the fact that she was actually going to see her girlfriend alive again – something she wasn't so sure of just ten hours ago – Kate didn't even think to ask the doctor about her condition or how long she'd have to stay here.

Frankly, Kate was tired of this hospital. The people here were great, but still.

Once she stepped into Ricki's room, Kate's heart skipped a beat. The writer was pale, the bags under her eyes exaggerated by the harsh lighting. She was hooked up to both a heart monitor and an IV, and the monitor's rhythmic beeping broke the silence of the room. A wide smile broke out onto Kate's face, even as tears burned the edges of her eyes.

The doctor nodded and left without saying a word.

The two women locked eyes, and before Ricki could react, Kate was on her, wrapping her arms around Ricki's shoulders, burying her face in the junction between her neck and shoulders and expelling a relieved sob.

"It's okay, Kate." Ricki's voice was hoarse, cracked. "I'm okay."

Ricki rubbed Kate's back as she cried, squeezing her as much as she could with her reduced strength. The writer kissed Kate's right temple, giving her another squeeze before reluctantly pulling out of the embrace and wiping tears off of Kate's face.

"I'm so sorry, Castle." Kate sniffled and shook her head. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry…"

Ricki shook her head. "No…Kate, no. You have nothing to be sorry for."

"But…if I hadn't—"

Ricki interrupted Kate with a kiss, caressing the detective's cheek with the hand that wasn't hooked up to all manner of machines. They broke the kiss, but Ricki's lips pressed against Kate's one more time.

"Listen to me, Beckett." Ricki pressed her forehead to Kate's. "I'm the one who should apologize." She smiled when Kate burrowed her brow. "I shouldn't have gone after Montgomery like that."

Kate pulled back slightly when Ricki lifted her gown, just enough to show Kate the scar on her left side. The skin was red and sensitive, bruising all around it. Another scar ran along her side to the left of the healing bullet wound.

"Let this be my constant reminder that I'm not a cop."

Kate clutched at her own scar, fighting off the tears again. She latched her hand onto Ricki's, shaking her head. "I'm not mad at you for going after Roy like that. Well, I _was_, but…"

"Do we know who did it?" Ricki swallowed. "Was it the same guy who shot you?"

"Yep, same guy." Kate sat up a little straighter. "We won't have to worry about him anymore. He was introduced to Esposito's shotgun."

Ricki smiled weakly. "Remind me to buy Javier a drink when I get out of here."

"Senator Bracken's behind all this." Kate shook her head. "I _know_ it, Castle. I just don't have the proof yet."

"You'll find it." Ricki squeezed Kate's hand. "You heard what Roy said. It's been right in front of you all these years. We'll figure it out." Ricki cringed as she sat up, a jolt of pain running up her side. "Just…"

Kate frowned. "What?"

"Next time I say I'm dying to see you," Ricki flashed a cheeky grin, "let's keep it metaphoric."

For the first time in what felt like forever, Kate laughed.

* * *

_Midtown…_

William Bracken gave himself a once-over in the mirror, pausing to straighten his red-and-blue striped tie. The flag pin on his left lapel was crooked, so Bracken straightened it before standing up a little straighter, smiling at the reflection staring back at him.

A crowd of supporters waited in the conference room. There was a buzz surrounding tonight's almost-impromptu press conference, and though some thought they had an idea of what Bracken was going to announce, his people had held this close to the vest.

An intern whose name Bracken couldn't remember sped past him. "Two minutes, Senator!"

He smiled into the mirror again, straightening his blazer and making sure everything else was in order. Bracken glanced at his phone with a frown; he should've heard from Cole Maddox hours ago.

Maddox's silence was unnerving.

Bracken pocketed his phone with a sigh, before crossing into the conference room. The crowd erupted in cheers, a feeling that still gave Bracken goosebumps, and he waved to the revelers and the cameras in the back. Flashbulbs threatened to blind the senator, but he squinted against them and approached the podium.

"Thank you!" Bracken waved his arms in a downward motion, trying to get his supporters to quiet down so he could speak. "Thank you so much!"

The noise slowly dissipated, and Bracken paused to look out into the crowd. He knew most of the people in the room – a lot of them had bankrolled his campaigns over the years – but even now, there were faces he didn't recognize.

"I can't tell you how much it means to have you all here." Bracken grabbed the edge of the podium. "But I can tell you that I'm tired. I'm so, so tired. I'm tired of the ways things are going in this country."

"Tell 'em!"

"Amen, Senator!"

"Taxes are the devil!"

Bracken shook his head. "I'm tired of the gridlock. I'm tired of coming back to my constituents and telling them that I can't work on their behalf because half of my colleagues are too busy acting like ostriches with their head in the sand to do their jobs!

"I'm tired of watching us waste money we don't have! I'm tired of us ignoring the true problems! I'm tired of us looking at the working man, the working woman, patting them on the back while we hide the knife!"

Bracken sighed. "But mostly…I'm tired of being tired."

The senator stared directly into the bed of cameras in the back of the room. All of the major local stations and the 24-hour cable networks were here. He had the exact audience he wanted for this announcement.

"Which is why…" He paused until applause died down. "…which is why I am announcing that I am forming an exploratory committee with the intent of running for the office of President of the United States!"

The resulting roar was practically deafening.

* * *

_Ricki Castle's hospital room…_

Ricki had fallen asleep again, and Kate was content to let her rest – maybe if she slept enough, she'd heal up enough to go back home before too much longer. The detective sat in the chair at Ricki's bedside, her legs tucked underneath herself, turning on the television in an effort to distract herself.

But once the screen flickered on, Kate's heart leapt into her throat.

_I'm tired of watching us waste money we don't have!_ Kate squeezed the remote in her hand. _I'm tired of us ignoring the true problems!_ Kate's mind screamed for her to change the channel, but she couldn't move. _I'm tired of us looking at the working man, the working woman, patting them on the back while we hide the knife!_

"No…" Kate shook her head. "Don't you dare, you son of a bitch…"

_But mostly…I'm just tired of being tired._

"Then take a fucking nap."

_Which is why…I am announcing that I am forming an exploratory committee with the intent of running for the office of President of the United States!_

Without even realizing it, Kate lost her grip on the remote, and the device fell to the floor. She cringed at the noise it made, guilt written all over her face when she saw Ricki stir. Kate stole another glance at the monitor, Senator Bracken smiling and waving to a crowd of supporters. The chryon was like another punch to the gut.

_Senator Bracken to mull Presidential run_

Kate swallowed hard, her hands starting to tremble until she felt another hand slide into hers. It broke the detective from her trance, and she stared down at Ricki's hand in hers, their fingers interlocked.

Kate looked up to see Ricki's sleepy face.

"Beckett…?" Ricki blinked. "Whus goin' on?"

Unable to find words, Kate instead pointed up at the television. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, watching Ricki's face tick upward. The writer squinted and rubbed sleep from her eyes…which widened the second she saw what was on the screen.

"No…"

"Castle…"

Ricki squeezed Kate's hand, sitting up as much as she could in her bed without triggering too much pain. She looked at Kate, squeezing her hand again in hopes of getting the detective to look at her.

"Hey, this doesn't change anything, okay? We're still gonna find that tape, and we're still gonna take him down."

Kate nodded, unable to tear her eyes away from the television. The image of Senator Bracken smiling for the masses was seared into her brain, and she sat up a little straighter while sucking in a deep breath.

No. This wasn't going to happen. Katherine Beckett was not about to let the man she knew killed her mother move into the White House. She would toss Bracken's worthless ass into a jail cell, even if it was the last thing she did.


	24. Chapter 24: Revenga

_**Author's Note: Disclaimer that I don't own Castle or anything related to it, nor do I own the song from which I've borrowed the title and lyrics for this chapter. Enjoy! And please review!**_

* * *

_My sweet revenge will be yours_

_For the taking, it's in the making…_

* * *

_Roy Montgomery's house…_

Despite the late hour, and the fact that the driveway was empty, the front door to Roy Montgomery's house was unlocked. Kate eased her way inside, service piece hoisted in her double-fisted grasp, eyes darting back and forth over the moonlit surroundings. A light was on in the back end of the house, and Kate sucked in a quiet breath to calm both her nerves and her anger.

The pain meds the doctors had given Ricki knocked her out for the night, and Kate was glad for the respite, because in light of what she saw on the news earlier that day, she had questions – questions only her former captain could answer.

Assuming, of course, someone else didn't get to him first.

Once Kate got to the back porch, though, she knew that wasn't the case. Roy sat in a rocking chair, his back to the detective. She knew he was still alive because she saw a coin being flipped in between Montgomery's fingers.

Kate approached with silent steps, holding her breath. She carried her weapon in her right hand, trying not to let her hand shake too much, announcing her presence by pressing the barrel of the gun to the back of Montgomery's head.

"You and I both know you won't pull that trigger."

"Really." Kate's jaw clenched. "Time was, I knew you would never betray me."

Montgomery dropped the coin, the sound of it hitting the floor registering in the silent house as he put his hands up on either side of himself. Kate kept the gun pressed against the back of his head, but she relieved some of the pressure.

"How?"

Montgomery was silent.

"That file was supposed to destroy him." Kate shook her head, her lower lip quivering. "Yet here he is telling the world he's running for President. How, Roy? How is Bracken so bulletproof?"

Montgomery slouched in his chair, heaving a weary sigh and lowering his arms. He kept his gaze straight ahead, not daring to move his head with the cold steel pressed against it. He still didn't believe Kate would pull the trigger, but given recent events, he had to admit he wasn't really sure what she'd do at this point.

"Hell of a PR man." Montgomery shrugged. "Paying off certain news organizations to either make the story go away or to turn the focus on the three of us."

Kate's eyes narrowed. "Get everyone so busy saber-rattling over the crooked cops that they ignore the money trail leading to the man who wants to be ruler of the free world."

"Amazing what a stern denial, a sparkling reputation, and a hefty war chest'll get you."

Kate lowered her weapon and holstered it with a sigh, taking the rocking chair next to Montgomery's. She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, trying her best not to look at her former mentor. He stole a sideways glance before returning his own gaze to the backyard.

"How's Castle?"

Kate sniffled. "They're moving her out of ICU tomorrow. For what it's worth, she's sorry she attacked you like that."

Montgomery huffed a laugh. "I figured it would've been you whalin' on me like that."

"Trust me, Roy." Kate shook her head. "If it had been, you'd be in the hospital and I'd be behind bars."

"And you'll never get justice for your mother from prison."

"I need that tape." This time, Kate was staring right at Roy, steely determination managing to come through the veil of unshed tears. "You know where it is, Roy. If nothing else, you owe me that."

"And put you in the crosshairs again?" Montgomery shook his head. "I can't do that, Kate."

"Damnit, Roy!" Kate sprung from her rocking chair, crossing over to Roy's and kneeling in front of him, smacking him across the face with an open palm. "You can't protect me anymore! I've already taken a bullet to the heart! I've seen my girlfriend get shot! So _stuff_ your antiquated notions of protecting me by lying to me!"

'It's not just you." Montgomery's dark eyes bore into Kate's. "That tape gets out, Evelyn and the girls are in the crosshairs, too."

Kate shook her head in disbelief. "Another deal."

"You're on your own on this one." Montgomery sucked in a ragged breath. "I can't do that to my family."

Kate stood and turned to leave Montgomery's house. "You should've thought about that the night you cornered Bob Armen in that alley."

* * *

_Twelfth Precinct…_

"Yo, Javi!"

The sound of Kevin Ryan's voice brought Javier Esposito out of the break room, a steaming mug of coffee clutched in his right hand. The two men had been at the precinct for almost 16 straight hours now, and the bags under Esposito's eyes were heavy. His tie and badge both hung loosely around his neck.

Joining Ryan at his desk, Esposito took a sip, cringing when he nearly burned his tongue. "What you got, bro?"

"Okay, so…" Ryan sucked in a deep breath, the kind he always took when he was about to dive into a drawn-out explanation. "On a complete whim, I decided to run Dick Coonan's financials again…and I got a hit."

Esposito frowned. "Coonan?"

"Well, it all started with him – and he's been quiet as a mouse since the whole Rathbourne fiasco." Ryan shrugged. "Given everything else that's happened in this case, do you really think he was laying low and behaving?"

"Laying low? Yes." Esposito sat next to Ryan. "Behaving? Hardly."

"Right, so when I ran the records again, I found another payment the night of Castle's shooting."

Esposito frowned. "Coonan paid Maddox?"

Ryan nodded, handing Esposito a manila folder. "He did the same thing the day Maddox shot Beckett. A one-time transfer of $200,000."

Esposito's brows arched. "That's more than Coonan made to kill Beckett's mom."

"That's not all." Ryan clicked the mouse on his desktop several times, his eyes dancing around the monitor. "Maddox also received payments the nights of those two shootings from an offshore account that's redirected several times, in the Caymans, Switzerland, Russia…whoever runs that account definitely knows what they're doing."

Esposito nodded. "Someone familiar with international banking laws."

"Maybe someone who _wrote_ one of those laws."

Ryan and Esposito fist-bumped. "Good work, Kevin. We're almost there. Just need a little bit more."

With a cheeky grin, Ryan grabbed the mug in front of Esposito and took a long, drawn-out sip. "Working on it."

Esposito frowned again. "That's cold, bro."

* * *

_The next day…_

The police presence at the Waldorf-Astoria was so dense, more so than usual, that Kate Beckett slipped in largely unnoticed. All she had to do was flash her badge at the security checkpoint and she was in with little fanfare. Senator Bracken was holding a large rally/press conference this afternoon, continuing the publicity push for his exploratory run at the White House.

As Kate wandered toward the conference room, she saw two uniformed officers dragging away a scruffy man carrying a smartphone and a legal pad. The badge on the man's shirt read _New York Post_. He struggled against the officers carrying him out, gritting his teeth.

"What happened to freedom of the press?!" His legs kicked out in front of him. "I have a credential! I have a right to ask about that file!"

Kate was content to let the protesting reporter steal the lion's share of everyone's attention, using the distraction to slip into the conference room. Her heart stopped when she laid eyes on William Bracken, feeling a strange tug at her scar. Blinking back tears, Kate forced herself to move again, her hand slipping into the pocket of her coat.

By the time he passed behind Bracken undetected, she slipped a flip phone into the pocket of his blazer. He was so engrossed in conversation with supporters, lamenting the state of covert intelligence, that neither he nor his audience noticed as Kate left the room.

From the hall, she grabbed the house phone, punching in a series of numbers.

Back in the conference room, she could hear the phone she'd left ringing. She allowed herself the smallest of smiles once the line connected, a confused "Hello…?" greeting her.

Cracking the door to the conference room ever so slightly, her eyes narrowed. "I'm watching you."

She watched him frown, his eyes scanning the room. "Who is this?"

"This is Kate Beckett." She smiled once his eyes met hers. He saw her eyes, familiarity washing over him. For a moment, the Senator was rendered speechless, mouth slack as he clutched the phone to his ear. "I knew that name would ring a bell for you."

With a clear of his throat, Bracken re-composed himself. "I don't have time for games."

"This isn't a game." Kate never broke her gaze, silently hoping her poker face was as strong as Ricki had said. "I have information that will destroy your career, for real this time, if you don't listen to me."

* * *

_Five minutes later…_

No sooner did William Bracken step into the dark, abandoned kitchen, he heard the sound of a gun being cocked. In the still of the kitchen, the sound carried far more than he would've liked, and the Senator stopped in his tracks, hands splayed in front of himself.

"That's far enough, Senator."

Kate Beckett emerged from the shadows, cradling her service piece in both hands. Her shoulder-length hair was straight, her hazel eyes dim with anger and hatred and hurt. Her hands twitched slightly, her footsteps echoing in the kitchen.

"What do you want, Ms. Beckett?"

Kate stopped roughly five feet from Bracken. "The truth."

"You _do_ know I'm a politician, right?" Bracken smirked and shook his head. "Besides…if you already have this information, then you already know the truth."

"I'm not talking about the mob scheme." Kate kept her gun trained on the Senator's chest. "I'm talking about my mother." She took a step forward. "_Johanna Beckett_. You had her murdered, Senator, and all I want is for you to admit it."

Fighting the urge to laugh, Bracken straightened and stared off to the side. He sucked in a deep breath, his jaw clenching before he turned his attention to Kate again. "Your mother's death was a real tragedy, and I am deeply sorry for your loss." He took a step forward. "But I can't give you what you want."

Bracken walked past Kate, and she whirled around thinking he was about to leave, keeping her weapon trained on him. But Bracken started pacing, his methodical steps echoing in the dark room.

"When I was fourteen," Bracken started, "I got to be friends with a boy in the neighborhood, Lamar Dokes. Sweet kid. Used to help him with his homework after school. But one day, he didn't come to school. So I went to his apartment after school, and I found the door open. Lamar was lying on his mattress, dead. His sister the same way.

"His mother was in the bedroom; she had hanged herself. She left a note…she'd lost her job, she was being evicted. And I thought, how could a woman be so _desperate_, so without hope, that she could crush up some pills, put them in hot chocolate, and give them to her kids? And that was the moment…" Bracken approached Kate. "That was the moment I knew I wanted to help make people's lives better. And I have."

Kate's hands trembled, but she kept her gun at Bracken's chest.

"I strengthened the safety net to protect kids like Lamar." Bracken cocked his head to the side. "I created jobs in those neighborhoods. I've done great things…just as you have."

Kate lowered her weapon, only slightly. Anger flashed in her eyes and didn't go away. She clenched her jaw so tightly that her teeth gnashed together, taking a step toward the Senator until there were but mere inches between them.

"Who do you think you're talking to?" Her eyes were glassy. "How can _you_ justify yourself to _me_?" She saw Bracken's demeanor shift, and she pressed on. "My mother was stabbed in an alley…_because of you!_ She bled to death _alone_, in a pile of garbage!" She jabbed her gun into Bracken's chest. "So save me your _campaign speeches _about the great things!"

Bracken raised his hands in defense, his brows arched. "You sound a bit delusional. You realize that, don't you? I mean, what are you? A wounded cop, obsessed with your mother's murder? A woman who clearly doesn't know what to do with her life, so she hooks up with a bestselling author with a history of promiscuity and adultery?"

He shrugged. "Now…who am I? I'm a decent man looking out for the little guy. That's who the public sees. And every time they elect me, I'm humbled. I'm humbled that they've allowed me to weather the Pulgatti storm. I strive harder every single day to live up to their ideal. I want to be _that man_." His expression hardened, his eyes narrowing. "And I won't let _you_, or anyone else, get in my way."

"I don't think you're in a position to threaten, Senator."

"See, here's what you don't understand." Bracken pushed Kate's gun aside. "It's not who has the gun, it's who has the power. Do you _really_ think that's you?"

Bracken turned to walk away without giving Kate a chance to respond. She lowered her weapon, watching the man walk away from her. Tears burned in her eyes, but she wouldn't let them fall. Not here, not now.

She also wasn't ready for this conversation to end. So she made a Hail Mary call. It was a longshot, it smacked of desperation, but Kate was tired of this overwhelming her life – and if she could end this sooner rather than later, she would.

"I have the tape."

Bracken stopped. _Yes…_

"Turns out it was under my nose all along."

The Senator slowly turned to regard Kate again, and she methodically closed the distance between them. She was still shaking, still on the verge of tears, still overwhelmed with anger and sadness and hatred she didn't realize she was capable of. But for now, she was still in control – and she needed to make sure Bracken knew it.

"You…Raglan…McCallister…Montgomery. Your confession. Your _order_." Kate cocked her head to the side. "So you're right…it _is_ about who holds the power. Now, I could release that tape and watch you burn, but something tells me I wouldn't last much longer." She got in Bracken's face, making sure he can see the anger in her eyes. "So here's what's gonna happen – that deal you had with Montgomery? That's _our_ deal now. Something happens to me, or to anyone I love, that tape goes public. Got it?"

Bracken remained silent, tearing his gaze away.

Kate expelled a ragged breath, a tear falling from her left eye. "Yes or no question!"

Reluctantly, Bracken met her gaze again, and this time, his eyes carried the same disgust and hatred as hers. "Yes…"

"And one more thing." Kate got even closer still to Bracken, looking up into his eyes with a scowl, her teeth gritted together. "Whoever it is you think I am, whatever it is you think you know about me…you have no idea what I'm capable of or how far I will go. I am _done_ being afraid. It's _your_ turn."

Before he could react, Kate smacked the butt of her gun against the left side of Bracken's face. He stumbled with a grunt, his hand immediately coming up over his face, warm blood seeping onto his fingers. He forced himself to look at Kate again, a mixture of shock and anger in his eyes.

She leaned in with a snarl. "That's gonna leave a nasty scar. Every time you see it, _think of me._"

Kate let herself take one last look at the blood trickling down Bracken's face before turning to walk out of the abandoned kitchen. She kept the gun in her hand, just in case he decided to get bold, and as she left, she blinked back her tears. There would be time to cry later. Her sadness was not the point of all this.

She stopped a few feet short, turning to look at Bracken again. He was still nursing the wound on his head. "I lied. There is one more thing." The smile that crossed Kate's lips was dark. "Come after Castle again, and the next time we meet, I'll use the other end of my gun."

* * *

_Should've been, could've been, would've been_

_Would've been you._


	25. Chapter 25: Back Together

_Ricki Castle's hospital room…_

As much as it hurt, the stitches on her side pulling, Ricki couldn't stop laughing. She'd spent the better part of the past half an hour talking and laughing with Jim Beckett, letting the man regale her with tales of his daughter's youth. His laugh was much stronger than hers, but he wasn't recovering from a bullet tearing into his side.

"If you _really_ wanna see her cheeks burn," Jim shook his head and smirked. "call her K-Bex."

Ricki sat up with another laugh, shaking her head. While she was appreciative of Jim's company, and the distraction he provided from the fact that Kate still hadn't come back from her errand, Ricki was ready to get back home.

She was beyond tired of this hospital.

"Any other embarrassing nicknames I should know about, Jim?"

"Call me Kit-Kat and you'll see a demonstration of my service piece. First-hand."

The voice at the doorway snapped both Ricki and Jim to attention, and they both lit up once they saw Kate walking into the room. Ricki thought she saw red in the other woman's eyes, but she talked herself into thinking that was just a trick of the lighting.

"Beckett." Ricki tried not to cringe as she shifted in her bed. "Not sure if threatening to shoot me is in good taste, given recent events."

"Oh, come on, Castle…" Kate leaned down to kiss the top of Ricki's head. "You know I'm just teasing."

"Oh, you're a tease, alright…"

With a loud, emphatic clearing of his throat, Jim rose from his chair with a sheepish grin. "I think it's time for me to head out." He gave Ricki's shoulder a light squeeze before leaning in to kiss Kate's cheek. "Court starts early tomorrow. Love you, Katie."

"Love you, dad."

Jim left and closed the door behind him, at which point Kate sat in the chair he had vacated, taking Ricki's hand into her own, a sly grin on her face. "So…how badly did he embarrass me?"

"Depends." Ricki smirked. "Do you still have the motorcycle?"

Kate's mouth hung open, disbelief etched into her hazel eyes. "He didn't…"

"More importantly…" Ricki's smile turned dark, her eyes flashing. "Do you still have all that leather that came with it?"

"Finish healing up, and you just might find out."

The two women laughed, and Kate leaned in until their foreheads touched. Ricki closed her eyes, relishing in the sensation, giving Kate's hand a soft squeeze – all while her thumb traced soft circles over the detective's hand.

"Where'd you go, Beckett?"

Kate went quiet for a few moments, partly because she was just content to enjoy her girlfriend's company, and partly because she was loathe to admit where she'd been. She closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Kate."

The detective opened her eyes, saw the writer's own staring back at her.

"Please." Ricki glanced down at Kate's hand, which was starting to tremble. "What happened?"

Kate sat up and sighed, forcing herself to look Ricki in the eye. "I, uh…" Kate shook her head. "I went to see Bracken."

"Kate…"

"I know!" Kate swallowed, squeezing Ricki's hand. "I know, Ricki, I just…last night, I went to see Montgomery. I tried to get him to tell me where the tape was, but he wouldn't."

"Why?" Anger flared in Ricki's chest again, and the heart monitor started beeping more incessantly.

Kate squeezed Ricki's hand and stroked her hair, trying to get the rhythmic beeping to slow. Gradually, it did just that. "He made another deal." She shook her head. "He kept the tape hidden, his family was safe."

Ricki shook her head. "Right, cause the first deal worked out so well…"

"After that…" Kate sighed again. "I got desperate. I had to confront Bracken. I had a play, and…I wanted to see if he really had a hand in any of this."

"Does he?"

Kate nodded, sucking in a ragged breath, her lower lip starting to quiver. Ricki squeezed her hand in response, and Kate sat up a little straighter. "You should've seen his eyes when he heard my mother's name." Kate's lips curled in disgust. "He may not have held the knife, but Senator Bracken definitely played his part."

"And now he's gonna come after us again."

"No, he won't." Kate leaned in for a soft kiss. "I struck a deal of my own with him."

Ricki sat up a little straighter again, hating the fact that she seemed to keep slipping down into her hospital bed. Even worse, the knot on the back of her gown wouldn't stay tied, and her naked back had been sweating into the sheet.

The sooner she could sweat on her own sheets, the better.

"Beckett…"

"I told him I had the tape." Kate reached down to kiss the back of Ricki's hand – the one that didn't have an IV needle sticking out of it. "That so long as nothing happened to me or anyone I cared about, it'd stay hidden."

Ricki shook her head. "You don't have the tape."

"He doesn't know that." A smile crept onto the detective's face.

A sideways grin spread onto Ricki's pale features, and she shook her head. "Hell of a play, Beckett."

"I also hit him."

Ricki sat up, ignoring the sharp pain in her side. She was pretty sure she just pulled a stitch. "_What?!_"

"I got a little heated." Kate shrugged. "He was pushing all of my buttons and I just…I needed him to know I'm someone to be reckoned with, so I slammed the butt of my gun into the side of his head." She smiled. "Gonna leave a nasty scar."

"And he'll have you hauled away for assaulting a Senator."

"No, he won't." Kate put Ricki's hand into both of hers. "Because he knows that coming forward with a public complaint against me runs the risk of all of his dirty little secrets spilling out. He got lucky that he escaped major damage in the Pulgatti scandal. He won't risk another flub, especially if he's running for President."

Ricki smirked. "I wish I could've seen his face."

"Oh, it was _priceless_, Castle." Kate's eyes turned dark. "Especially when I told him to stay away from you. I believe my exact words were _Come after Castle, and I'll use the other end of my gun_."

"Boy, am I glad I'm dating a cop." The smile on Ricki's face slowly faded, and she reached behind her to produce a folded-up piece of paper. "I, uh, had a visitor while you were gone. Montgomery came to see me."

Kate frowned.

"He spent the whole time apologizing." Ricki's eyes went dark. "Sounded like he was tidying up everything. Knew he was at the end of his rope and was trying to make things right."

Kate couldn't stop staring at the paper in Ricki's hand. "And that…?"

"It's a letter." Ricki nodded once. "For you."

Kate reluctantly took the paper, letting go of Ricki's hand so she could slowly unfold the paper. It was Montgomery's hand writing, and before she could bring herself to read the words, her hazel eyes went back to meet Ricki's.

"I didn't read it." Ricki shook her head. "It seemed…personal. Just a you-and-him thing."

With a deep breath to steady her suddenly-sensitive nerves, Kate looked back down at the paper.

_Kate,_

_You're the best that I've ever trained. Maybe the best that I've ever seen. We speak for the dead. That's the job. We are all they've got once the wicked rob them of their voices. We owe them that. But we don't owe them our lives._

_I'm writing this because I'm at the end of my road. Whether that means I'm the next one to wind up dead or they're gonna throw me behind bars, I don't know. But it's the end of the line for me, Kate, and I need you to know that I'm sorry for my part in everything. The Armen scheme, your mother's murder – all of it._

_I was a rookie when it happened. McCallister and Raglan were heroes to me. I believed in what we were doing. We were supposed to grab Pulgatti that night. Armen shouldn't have even been there. The whole thing was a blur, and McCallister and Raglan tried to bury it._

_I poured it all into my job. I became the best cop I could be. And then, when you walked in, I felt the hand of God. I knew he was giving me another chance._

_I think that's why I took to you so easily after I caught you in the archive room that night. I could've written you up that night, but I didn't – because I know pulling you away from that case would do nothing but push you even further into it._

_I can't make you stand down, Beckett. I never could. The way I figure it, no one can._

_I'm not gonna lie; I don't think you can win this. I worry about you. I worry about Castle. I spent most of my life walking behind my badge, and I can tell you this for a fact: there are no victories. There's only the battle. And the best that you could hope for is that you find someplace where you could make your stand._

_You find your spot, Kate. If you're very lucky, you'll find someone willing to stand with you._

_This is my spot. This is where I stand._

_I only hope you can forgive me one day._

_-Roy_

By the time she reached the end of the letter, Kate was in tears. A few fell from her eyes and stained the paper. She set the letter in her lap with a ragged breath, looking up to see Ricki staring back at her with love and concern in her eyes.

Kate reached out for Ricki and their hands locked together again, the detective using her free hand to brush away as many tears as she could.

"Sounds like a goodbye, Castle."

"Can't say I'm surprised." Ricki leaned in as much as she could, seeing as how she was still hooked up to the heart monitor and the IV drip. "If nothing else, his career's over."

"He betrayed me." Kate sucked in a hard breath, her lower lip quivering. "But he also made me who I am today. Everything you see when I strap on the badge, Castle, that's him."

"Not all of it." Ricki kissed the back of Kate's hand. "Sure, you learned interrogation techniques and…what to look for at a crime scene and…what questions to ask and when to ask them. But that's just the nuts and bolts of being a cop. Kate…that's not why you inspired me to create Nikki Heat."

"No?" Kate sniffled, her eyes red and puffy. "Then why?"

"Because more than anything, you honor the victim." Ricki squeezed Kate's hand, wishing she could lean over far enough for a kiss. "You dive into the victim's life and you put together every last piece you can until you can look their loved ones in the eye and tell them that the system works. Every other cop I see? Kate, they're good – Ryan, Esposito, all of them – they're _good_, but they work with their heads. _You_ work with your heart."

Kate leaned in to give Ricki a kiss, the writer's thumb brushing across her cheek to gather another tear that fell from her eye. Ricki broke the kiss and trailed a finger along Kate's jawline, and their eyes met.

"There is one other reason."

Kate cocked her head to the side.

"You're tall."

Kate laughed and shook her head, and the two women touched foreheads again. They squeezed each other's hands, before Kate gave Ricki another kiss. Kate slowly moved from the chair to Ricki's bed, careful not to get herself tangled in the machines that were still hooked to the writer.

Kate rested her head on Ricki's shoulder.

"Hey, Castle?"

"Hm?"

"We really have to stop meeting here." A sad smile crept onto her face. "I mean, the food's okay, but I much prefer Remy's or the Old Haunt."

"Well…" Ricki cleared her throat. "Once I'm out of here and am again capable of ingesting something more solid than Jell-O, I promise burgers and drinks."

"Mm, good."

Then, with the weight of the day finally catching up to her, Kate snuggled in closer to Ricki, hooking her arms around the writer's as her eyes grew heavy. The steady beep of Ricki's heart monitor eventually helped lull Kate to sleep.

For the first time in weeks, she slept through the night.


	26. Chapter 26: Back to Normal

_Two weeks later…_

Truth be told, Kate Beckett didn't much care for her own apartment anymore. Maybe it had something to do with the scar in the center of her chest, the fact that the last time she truly went home, she almost died.

Anymore, whenever Kate wasn't at the precinct – or the hospital – she was at Ricki's loft.

Fortunately, hospital trips were a thing of the past, since Ricki had been home for roughly a week and a half. She had her own scar, on the left side of her back, and every time Kate had her in bed, they took turns kissing each other's scars with all the love and reverence they had for each other.

Those scars were as much a symbol of their love as anything else, and as painful as the memories associated with them were, they also told of the two women's respective strength.

After all, they both survived. Not only that, they were still together, stronger than ever.

Kate rolled over in Ricki's bed, stretching with a contented sigh. It was still early – not even seven yet – and the detective frowned when she saw the space next to her empty. Kate sat up, letting the sheets fall from her naked chest before rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

Rising, Kate grabbed Ricki's shirt – a black tee with the Green Lantern logo – and put it on. As she approached the door leading to Ricki's office, she heard the rhythmic tapping of fingers against keys, and the detective smiled.

Ricki was writing again.

Kate quietly exited the bedroom and crossed through Ricki's office before wandering to the kitchen, turning on the coffee maker and grabbing a pair of mugs. She leaned against the island as the coffee brewed, glancing at a pair of sweatpants hanging off the back of the couch. She grabbed them and put them on.

Good thing, too, because Alexis padded downstairs just seconds later. Her face brightened when she saw Kate standing in the kitchen, but the redhead tried to hide the smile.

"Morning, Detective Beckett."

"Please, Alexis, call me Kate." The detective chewed on her lower lip, studying the teenager. Ricki assured her that her daughter didn't hate her, but Kate would be lying if she said she didn't still worry after Ricki's shooting.

She knew how important Alexis was to Ricki, and Kate didn't want to do anything to get in the way of that, and she didn't want Alexis to hate her for anything that happened to Ricki as a result of their professional arrangement.

Alexis hoisted the backpack over her shoulder, smiling a little more and not trying to hide it quite as quickly this time. "Kate." She approached the island, ducking her head. "Hey, uh…I never apologized for that night at the hospital."

"Alexis, you don't have to—"

"Yes, I do." Alexis shrugged. "I was out of line."

"No, you were scared." Kate sat on one of the stools, patting the one to her right for Alexis to sit. The redhead did just that. "I don't blame you for the way you acted."

"But it wasn't your fault, Kate. I should've known that."

"Alexis, you're not even fourteen yet." Kate tried to give a reassuring smile. "You're forgiven for a moment of emotion and immaturity. You don't _always_ have to be the grown-up around here."

"I know." Alexis leaned over until her head rested on Kate's shoulder. "That's one reason I like having you around."

"You do?"

Alexis nodded with a smile. "It's nice having another adult around. And you've been really good for mom."

Kate took a chance, leaning down to place a kiss to the top of Alexis' head. "And she's been great for me." The detective shook her head with a smirk, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's funny, I never really pictured myself with anyone – let alone a woman, let alone my favorite author. Yet here I am, head over heels for Ricki Castle and finding myself looking forward to each and every day with her despite…well, everything."

"The day you met…" Alexis smirked. "She wouldn't shut up about you."

Kate laughed and shook her head. "And that day, I wanted to shoot her. Your mom was kind of an ass that day."

"Just that day?" Alexis giggled and shook her head before getting up and grabbing her bookbag again. "I've gotta run, Kate." Before leaving, Alexis wrapped Kate into a quick, tight hug. "I'll probably see you tonight."

Kate watched the redhead disappear with a smile before shaking her head and turning her attention back to the coffee maker. One mug was full by this point, and she worked on filling the other. Alexis' apology and seeming acceptance relieved a world of pressure from the detective's shoulders, and she couldn't help but wonder how someone so young was so mature – particularly given her mother and grandmother.

Both mugs now full, Kate padded her way back into Ricki's office with a smile. Normally, she was loathe to interrupt Ricki while she was writing, but her mood – bordering on serene – and the way Ricki looked in a black sports bra and matching sweatpants begged for an exception.

"Made you a coffee."

Ricki glanced up from her laptop and smiled, saving the document and closing the computer. "I think I could get used to mornings like this."

The two women sipped at their coffee, slow and gingerly with the steam still rising from each mug. Ricki leaned back in her black swivel chair, while Kate sat in one of the chairs across from the desk with her legs tucked underneath herself. The silence was comfortable.

Ricki sat up again, placing her mug to the side. "Oh, uh…got an email from Paul this morning. Apparently, _Cosmo_ wants to do a story on you for next month's issue."

Kate frowned, cradling her mug in both hands. "Why?"

"Well, _Heat Wave_ debuted at number eight on the _New York Times_ bestseller list, and they want to do a profile on the inspiration behind the main character." Ricki looked Kate right in the eye. "I mean, you can turn it down if you want. I'm the one Black Pawn's got under contract."

"What'll _Cosmo_ do if I say no?"

Ricki shrugged. "Probably just talk to me instead."

"Well…" Kate sipped on her coffee again, a sideways grin tickling her face. "How about they talk to both of us?"

Ricki sat back again, chewing on her lower lip before grabbing her mug and taking another sip. "You know…I kinda like that. Both of us there, same time, controlling the narrative ourselves." Ricki stood and crossed the desk over to Kate, placing a kiss to the top of her head. "I know the guy who'll be writing the piece; I'll call him directly."

"Won't that make Paul mad?"

"Please." Ricki scoffed. "That boy was _born_ mad. You should've seen the look on his face the night you showed up at the launch party. Tongue wagging out of his mouth and everything until he saw us kiss."

"Damn." Kate smirked. "Buzzkill."

"Hey, if _Heat Wave_ keeps selling, he'll be alright." Ricki squeezed Kate's shoulder. "Oh, _speaking of_…I'm almost finished with the first draft of _Naked Heat_."

"Already?!"

Ricki shrugged. "Making up for lost time."

As Ricki wandered into the bedroom, Kate followed, mug still clutched in her hands. "Castle, when was the last time you slept?"

"Last night."

Kate smirked. "Oh, we definitely weren't sleeping."

"_After_, silly." Ricki pulled a red button-down out of her closet, throwing it over her shoulders before fastening all but the top two buttons. She cringed when her movements tugged on the scar, but in truth, the pain had lessened considerably over the past couple weeks.

"And here I thought I was the one with the weird sleep schedule."

"Being a bestselling author while raising a just-now teenage daughter will mess up your sleep schedule, too." Ricki flashed a cheeky smile, replacing her sweatpants with a pair of dark blue skinny jeans. "Throw in the best girlfriend in the world and…hey, sleep is kinda overrated."

Kate cocked her head to the side. "Just so long as you're okay."

Ricki closed the distance between them, leaning in for a kiss. "Long as you're here, I'm always okay."

Just as Ricki and Kate pressed their foreheads together, the detective's phone pinged. Kate rolled her eyes with a sigh, setting her mug down on the nightstand before grabbing her device with a frown.

"It's Espo. There's been a murder."

* * *

_Twenty minutes later…_

Loathe as Kate was to leave her coffee, she couldn't exactly bring it with her to the crime scene. Only the promise of Ricki making a coffee run later in the day kept her spirits up as the two of them approached the crime scene. Ricki held up the yellow tape for Kate to duck under, and she flashed her badge for the uniform standing guard.

Another few steps, and Kate and Ricki were greeted by Esposito.

"What we got, Espo?"

"Victim's a black male, 18 years old. Preliminary ID is a Lamar Goodson, lives in Queens." Esposito walked in stride with Kate and Ricki, the two women putting on blue latex gloves before they came to the body lying on its back.

Lanie was kneeling beside the body, jotting down notes on her pad. "Preliminary cause of death is multiple GSWs. Three in the chest, one in the back, two in the right leg." Lanie looked up at Kate, her pen pointing at one of the wounds. "There's residue on this wound – and _only_ this wound."

Ricki frowned. "Point-blank? But why just that one?"

Kate sighed. "Whoever did this really wanted to send a message to Lamar."

Esposito shook his head. "Boy's dead. I'd say message received."

Kate kneeled beside Lanie, squinting as she examined the bullet holes. Lamar had been wearing a black t-shirt, which made a few of the wounds difficult to see, but up close, she saw enough of the bloodstain to get a general feel for what went down.

Her hazel eyes examined the pavement below. "Blood spatter is all over the place. What the hell happened?"

"I'll know more once CSU has a look." Lanie stood with a sigh. "Also once I get Lamar on my slab and have a chance to pull out the slugs."

"Murder weapon?" Ricki looked over her shoulder. "Shell casings?"

Esposito shook his head. "Nothing yet. Ryan and I are still looking."

Kate glanced to her left, seeing Ricki's furrowed brow. "Castle?"

"It's just…" The writer shook her head. "We know the one shot was at point-blank range, but the rest…we can't tell if they were long-distance, if the person shot Lamar from behind, or what. It just…whoever did this was either very angry or off their hinges."

Detective Ryan approached the group, the knot on his bright blue tie almost as big as his head. He was out of breath, but his eyes lit up when he joined Ricki and the other detective's holding up a large evidence bag. "Ladies – and Javi – the murder weapon."

Kate grabbed the bag with a frown, cocking her head to the side and leaning in. "Recently fired…not as heavy as it could be, which tells me the clip is empty…" She hoisted the bagged weapon in her left palm, shaking her head.

"Beckett?"

Shooting Castle a worried glance, Kate reached for her hip with her right hand, producing her service piece. She held out her weapon for the others to see, before bringing the weapon in the bag up beside it.

"Anyone notice anything?"

Ryan and Esposito shared a worried glance and Ricki shook her head. Lanie turned her attention back to the dead body sprawled out on the pavement.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me."

"I wish I was." Kate shook head head. "Lamar was killed with a cop's gun."


	27. Chapter 27: Treading Lightly

_Twelfth Precinct…_

Ricki Castle strode into the bullpen from the break room, a mug in each hand, approaching Kate Beckett's desk before handing the detective the blue mug. Kate took the mug with a smile, ducking her head and taking a sip before once again turning her attention to the white dry-erase board standing by her desk.

Ricki, taking a sip of her own, studied what little information was on the board. "Please tell me ballistics have come back on that gun."

"Not yet." Kate sighed and set her mug on the desk. "There were no prints on the weapon, and we're waiting for the serial number to come back. There are more than thirty thousand cops in this city, Castle; there's no telling who it belongs to."

"And for all we know, that gun was stolen before it was used on Lamar."

Kate cast a sideways glance at Ricki before cocking her head to the side. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

"Honestly?" Ricki shrugged. "No, I don't. But…I will admit that given everything that's been in the news the past month or two? Seemingly every other day, they're talking about some cop somewhere who shot and killed someone, justified or not."

Detective Ryan approached the desk with a worried expression, shaking his head. "I'm afraid you guys might be onto something." When both Kate and Ricki shot him a confused glance, Ryan heaved a weary sigh. "Security camera footage from the gas station across the street just came in...it caught the whole thing."

* * *

_Tech room…_

"Can't we do something about the resolution?" Ricki squinted. "Zoom in, go to HD, something?"

Ryan shook his head. "Sorry, this is the best we could do. The gas station's security system still runs on analog technology. We're lucky we even have this."

As the video played, grainy as it was, Lamar Goodman ran into the frame, glancing over his shoulder. He slowed, approaching the gas station until he came to a complete stop. There was no sound, but it was clear Lamar was pleading to a woman pumping gas into her Jeep for help. She stood there, continuing to pump her gas.

Lamar looked over his shoulder again, breaking into a sprint before falling to his knees. He had taken a gunshot to his back. Doubled over on the pavement, Ricki and the two detectives could see two bursts of blood – undoubtedly, the two shots Lamar took to his leg.

As Lamar rolled onto his back, placing his arms above his head, another figure rolled into the frame. But whereas Lamar had ran, frantic for his life, this figure – tall and broad – strode purposefully, each step methodical.

The male figure donned a brown leather jacket, matching hair disheveled and a matching goatee covering his chin. As soon as the man raised his right arm, putting two more bullets into Lamar's chest, Kate gasped in recognition.

She had to turn away before seeing the man put the final bullet in Lamar's chest from point-blank range.

By the time Ryan stopped the video, all three felt sick.

"Tech's working on facial recognition now." Ryan swallowed and shook his head. "But, with the video this grainy, there's no telling…"

"There's no need." Kate stood. "I know exactly who that is."

* * *

_Captain's office…_

Victoria Gates was still the interim captain of the Twelfth Precinct, until One PP managed to find a more permanent replacement. That was the official word, anyway; everyone in the building had a suspicion that they weren't even looking for a replacement, content to just let "Iron Gates" from Internal Affairs take over.

No one was happy about that, least of all Gates.

The latest bombshell from Detective Beckett did little to help her mood.

"Are you sure?" She tossed her glasses onto the desk. "Detective, that is a serious allegation."

"I know, sir." Kate shrugged. "But I saw the video. That was Ethan Slaughter."

"We already know the murder weapon was an NYPD-assigned handgun," Esposito recited from his notepad, careful not to look Gates in the eye. "Between that and the security footage from the gas station, we believe we have enough to bring Slaughter in for questioning."

Ryan chimed in: "And if ballistics is a match, we may be able to file charges."

"On what, exactly?" Gates shook her head. "Do we have…_any_ context for the shooting? Why Lamar was running? What he said or did to provoke Detective Slaughter?"

"Sir, there is no justifying this." Kate shook her head and approached the interim captain's desk, steeling her gaze when she saw the other woman silently challenging her. "Lamar Goodman was an 18-year-old _kid_ who was running for his life. He was scared to death, and he was shot _in the back_."

"And then the leg. Twice. And then in the chest. Three times." Ricki shook her head in disgust. "Once at point-blank range."

Gates trained her gaze on Ricki. "Why are you here again?"

Kate leaned over Gates' desk, her hands curled into fists as they slammed against the wooden surface. "Point _being_, sir…we have video proof that Detective Slaughter murdered an unarmed teenager in cold blood, and I plan to proceed accordingly."

Gates stood. "And I am telling you to _tread lightly_, Detective."

Kate stood up straight again. "No. Playing politics with One PP, playing the media like the puppets they are? That's _your_ job. I'm here to solve a murder. There's a woman in the break room right now desperate to find out who killed her only child and why, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let anyone – even a holdover from IA – get in my way."

* * *

_Interrogation…_

"Detective Ethan Slaughter…"

Kate slapped a stuffed manila folder onto the table, ignoring the smug grin from the man sitting across from her as she took her own seat. Ricki took the seat next to her. Slaughter shrugged, resting his hands on the back of his head and leaning back into his seat and smirking. "That's my name, baby."

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes – knowing the man was, in part, just trying to get a rise out of her, Kate opened the folder and flipped through several sheets of paper. "Your reputation precedes you, Slaughter. Frankly, as colorful as your file is, I bet that even pales in comparison to the truth of it all."

"What can I say?" Slaughter's gaze moved from Kate to Ricki. "I love my job."

"Maybe a little too much." Ricki arched a brow.

Not giving Slaughter a chance to respond to the writer, Kate leaned forward in her seat, producing a still image from the security tape – an image of Slaughter putting one in Lamar's chest.

"Lamar Goodman." Her hazel eyes bore into Slaughter's. "Eighteen years old. Six bullets inside of him, all from _your_ gun."

Slaughter shrugged. "I don't know what you want me to tell you, Detective. He was a suspect. I was in pursuit. Things happened."

"Things," Kate repeated. "Why don't you tell me what those _things_ are, before I charge you with murder?"

"I've been tailing Lamar for the past three weeks." Slaughter shook his head. "Little turd muffin was a drug runner for the Westies."

Ricki arched a brow. "The Irish mob."

"Hey, they take the help where they can get it, okay? Especially after that enforcer of theirs got whacked." The pang of familiarity hit Kate, but she did her best to ignore it. "I finally corner the fuckin' kid, trying to get him to talk, and he bails!"

"Now, I'm no cop…" Ricki shook her head. "But I'm pretty sure running isn't a license to empty your clip."

"Oh…" Slaughter smirked. "Cute _and_ smart. I can see why you keep her around, Detective." He sat back in his chair again, licking his top lip with a sneer. "Maybe after we're done with this little bullshit session, you can turn off these cameras and I can do some shadowing of my own."

"Look. At. Me."

Reluctantly, Slaughter regarded the detective again, the smug grin still plastered on his face. "Well, if you don't want people saying shit like that, maybe you shouldn't have flaunted yourselves at that party." He looked at Ricki again. "Nice trick, getting shot and all. Bet that helped book sales."

Ricki's hands balled into fists, only relaxing when she felt Kate's hand on her knee under the table. That touch grounded her, calmed her nerves for the moment, and she cast a sideways glance, silently hoping that if nothing else, Kate would tear this guy a new one.

"Why did you shoot Lamar?"

Slaughter shrugged. "I feared for my life."

"Why?" Kate leaned in again. "Lamar was unarmed."

"Bullshit!"

"The only gun we found at the crime scene, Slaughter, was yours." Kate gritted her teeth, fire in her eyes. "So let me try this again…why did you shoot Lamar?"

"Self-defense."

Kate and Ricki exchanged a look.

Slaughter smirked and shook his head. "I'm not the only one with a reputation, Detective. I know all about you. Little crusader of justice, determined to make sure no one else has to live like you because you're still not over the fact that someone offed your mommy in an alley."

Ricki glared at Slaughter. "Watch it…"

"No one's gonna miss that fucking waste of oxygen, Detective." Slaughter shook his head. "I did this city a favor putting a clip in him, and I guarantee you the commissioner and the mayor and everyone down at One PP will agree with me."

"You got friends in high places, Slaughter." Kate stood, closing the manila folder and tucking it under her arm. "You think they'll still be in your corner once that video goes public?"

Slaughter's expression darkened. "You wouldn't…"

"Already did." Kate shrugged, as if it was no big deal. "See, our captain's a stickler for details, for evidence. And right now, that video footage is the best evidence we have. It shows you hunting that boy down and shooting him."

"Six times." Ricki folded her arms over her chest.

"What do you think's gonna happen once that video hits the air waves?" Kate smiled. "At the very least, you'll become a marked man. Best-case scenario, your career's over. This isn't roughing up some mafia enforcer, Slaughter. You _murdered_ an innocent kid!"

Detective Slaughter rose from his seat with enough speed and force that the chair fell to the floor, gritting his teeth and lunging over the table. Pushing his way past Ricki, knocking her to the ground, Slaughter reached for Kate, but she side-stepped him, grabbing the collar of his coat and using his own momentum to send him face-first into the door.

Slaughter grunted and covered his nose as he crumpled to the ground, while Kate tossed her manila folder onto the table and fished her handcuffs off of her hip. "Ethan Slaughter, you are under arrest for assaulting a police officer." She grunted when she latched the cuffs to his wrists, before hoisting him back to his feet and taking pleasure in seeing the blood dripping from his nose.

The door opened before Ryan and Esposito grabbed Slaughter on either arm and led him out of the room, Esposito mumbling something about Slaughter being _real_ tough attacking a female cop like that.

Kate kneeled to help Ricki back to her feet. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Ricki sighed, straightening the hem of her shirt. "Just…kinda mad you wouldn't let me kick in his teeth."

"I'd love to have seen that, Castle, but we have to play this carefully." Kate sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "As much as I hate to agree with Gates, she's right. It's a little different when it's one of ours."

Ricki shook her head as they walked out of the interrogation room. "Is Slaughter really that bad?" Even as she asked the question, Ricki knew the answer; five minutes in the interrogation room was really all the Ethan Slaughter she needed.

"Which story do you want first? The one about the three partners he's had, two of whom are dead and the other one who quit on his first day…or the one where he got a confession out of a witness by tossing him into the back of a garbage truck and threatening to turn on the compacter?"

"How does he still have a badge?"

Kate shrugged, grabbing her mug and taking a sip, blanching when she discovered her drink was now room temperature. She wandered to the break room, with Ricki following. "With any luck, he won't for much longer."

Kate poured out the contents of her mug before Ricki grabbed it and started brewing her another mug. The detective slid her arm around Ricki's as the machine whirred to life and started churning out the coffee, resting her head on the writer's shoulder.

"What about you?" Ricki kissed the top of Kate's head. "You alright?"

"Yeah." Kate straightened again, crossing to one of the tables before Ricki handed her the fresh mug. "Yeah, just…the Neanderthal pushed a couple buttons."

"Please." Ricki took one of Kate's hands into her own and squeezed. "Half the guys I went to high school with were like him. Entitled, desperate to prove just how macho they really are. Slaughter's nothing but a bully who decided to become a cop so he could feel superior to everyone."

Kate smiled and sipped at her coffee when Ryan walked into the break room, waving a folder in front of his face. "Ballistics came back."

Kate sat up a little straighter. "And?"

"Just like we thought. That was Slaughter's gun."

Kate and Ricki shared a smile. "That's it, then. Get the DA on the phone, Ryan, and tell them I want to start processing murder charges."


	28. Chapter 28: Too Fast and Too Slow

_**Author's Note: This chapter is pretty close to the actual storyline here, but from here on out, I'll be deviating a bit. Still don't own these characters or this universe, of which my bank account reminds me daily. Please review!**_

* * *

_Three weeks later…_

With the Ethan Slaughter mess behind them – it was a surprisingly quick affair once Internal Affairs and the DA's office got a hold of the security tape – life settled into a bit of a routine for Kate and Ricki. They solved murders together, Ricki wrapped up the first draft of _Naked Heat_, and Alexis was enjoying her summer vacation.

If participating in a summer camp at nearby Columbia University for gifted youngsters could be considered a vacation.

They'd even solved a case the previous week that Ricki had loved – one in which a self-proclaimed psychic was killed in her own office, and the perpetrator made it seem like she had predicted her own demise.

_This is _so_ going in the next book!_ Ricki had exclaimed.

True to form, Kate and Ricki found themselves in an alley on a surprisingly chilly New York morning, each clutching cups of coffee. The body was already on a gurney by the time they got there, Lanie Parish jotting down notes on her clipboard and Detectives Ryan and Esposito worked a preliminary canvass to direct CSU.

"Starting without us?" Ricki reluctantly let go of Kate's hand once they were within earshot of Lanie.

The ME arched an eyebrow. "It's not _my_ fault you two couldn't keep your hands off each other before the call came in."

Cop and writer exchanged a glance. "Was it that obvious?"

"Girl, you know I can read you like a book." Lanie gave Kate one of _those_ smiles before tucking her pen into her right ear and pointing at the bloody corpse on the mobile slab. "Vic's name is Hasim Farouk, Saudi national in the States to study at Columbia."

Ricki arched a brow, examining both the blood all over the mangled body and the pavement. "Cause of death?"

Esposito approached. "Runaway van." He glanced down at his notepad. "Eyewitnesses say they heard gunshots and a low-rumbling engine in the vicinity of this alley at about two in the morning last night."

Kate frowned, examining the handgun packaged away in an evidence bag laying on top of the body. "That Hasim's?"

"We don't know yet." Ryan joined the group, shaking his head. "But…there were security cameras in the area. I've already asked them to provide all of the footage from last night. Should be there by the time we get back to the precinct."

Ricki cocked her head to the side, free hand tucked against Kate's. "Looks like someone tried to get his Jack Bauer on."

Rolling her eyes and trying not to smile, Kate shook her head and took a step closer to the body. She studied the blood stains in his clothes, the way the baggy garments hid his injuries. Other than the blood, Hasim didn't look like someone who'd been run over, and Kate was anxious to see the security video.

"I hope not." Kate shook her head. "Last thing we need is this place crawling with feds."

* * *

_The Twelfth…_

"Security tape shows just what we thought," Ryan explained, punching a series of keys on a keyboard before the sequence played again on the flatscreen monitor. The victim burst into the middle of an alley, emptying his gun into the fast-moving van before the white vehicle plowed into him.

"Can you get plates on the van?" Kate squinted.

Ryan shook his head. "Angle's too sharp."

"We may not need them," Kate said as she glanced over her shoulder at Ricki, and the two women shared a smile before the writer sipped at her coffee. "Ryan, check other cameras in the area. As hard as that van hit Hasim, there should be some front-end damage and maybe even blood spatter."

"On it." Ryan's fingers deftly worked the keyboard, almost as quickly as Ricki's whenever she was in the zone writing a new chapter, before the image shifted to a street corner, where the van – crumpled front bumper and all – sat at a stoplight. The glare of a nearby street light made the plate impossible to read.

Kate saw Ricki staring at her phone with a frown. "What's wrong?"

"Hm?" Ricki looked up, pocketing her phone. "Oh, it's nothing. Just…I talked to Alexis last night, and she said she'd call today, but I haven't heard anything yet."

Kate gave Ricki's hand a squeeze. "It's not even noon yet, Castle. I'm sure everything's fine."

The van sat idle for almost a minute before the side door burst open. The two detectives and the writer gasped in surprise, just as a woman poured out of the van with a panicked look on her face. Kate leaned in, her mouth agape. A masked man emerged from the van, wrapping an arm around the woman's waist and dragging her back into the van.

Ryan froze the footage just before she disappeared again.

"That van had a hostage…" Kate shook her head.

"Ryan squinted. "Son of a bitch…"

Esposito burst into the tech room, shaking his head. "Just got back from Hasim's apartment. For a college student, this guy had some awful fancy weaponry. I'm talking Grade A military arsenal…" His eyes followed the others' to the monitor, and his frown deepened. "That the van that killed Hasim?"

"Looks like Hasim was trying to save that girl." Ricki took another sip of coffee.

"Ryan, Espo…" Kate stood, approaching the monitor. "Find out who that girl is."

* * *

_Two hours later…_

The woman in the video was later identified as Sara El-Masri, the 14-year-old daughter of Saudi businessman Anwar El-Masri and his wife Lina. Kate and the others were no closer to identifying those in the van who took Sara, nor were they able to discern why Hasim had tried to save her – or why he had access to military-grade weaponry.

Running Hasim's name through federal and international databases had yielded no results.

Which meant, for the time being, that Kate's best bet was to talk to Sara's parents – something she dreaded doing, no matter how many times she had to be the bearer of bad news to loved ones. Having been on the receiving end of that conversation, Kate always felt her heart break a little when she had to have one.

Her only solace this time is that Sara was still alive. At least, that was her hope.

"Mr. and Mrs. El-Masri, we're sorry that you're experiencing this ordeal." Kate leaned in, glad to have Ricki by her side. "But I'm afraid there are some questions I need to ask you."

"Of course." Even in this difficult time, Anwar sat upright, purposefully holding his head high while his hands cupped his wife's.

"Mr. El-Masri, do you have any enemies?"

Anwar shrugged. "A man of my stature and wealth, I've…rubbed some people the wrong way over the years." He heaved a sigh, the bags under his eyes combining with his white goatee to show his age. "In fact, that's why we hired Hasim to look after her."

"Sara hated the idea of having a bodyguard." Lina shook her head. "But we insisted."

Kate and Ricki exchanged a look, before Kate produced a photograph of Hasim that Lanie had taken in the morgue. Sliding the picture across the table in the dimly-lit conference room, Kate arched a brow. "This Hasim?"

Anwar swallowed thickly and nodded. "Yes, that's him."

"We believe he was killed trying to save your daughter." Kate put the photograph back in her folder. "The van carrying Sara ran him over."

"Mr. Anwar…" Ricki cleared her throat. "When did you last speak with your daughter?"

Kate caught something in the tone of Ricki's voice, arching a brow even as she tried to ignore it. Instead, she focused her gaze on the El-Masris, cocking her head to the side, the tip of her pen trained against the notepad under her arm.

"Yesterday afternoon." Lina nodded. "She's participating in the summer program at Columbia for gifted incoming high school students. She called us excited because she was going to hear a presentation on renewable energy last night."

Kate and Ricki exchanged another look, and something flashed in the writer's eyes. Kate gave her hand a squeeze under the table, certain this was just a coincidence.

"Do either of you remember the name of the speaker?"

* * *

_Columbia University…_

"Yes, Dr. Garcia gave a presentation on renewable energy last night." The lanky bald man wearing wire-rim glasses led Kate and Ricki into an empty conference room, rows upon rows of blue chairs lines up on either side of the room. "She had a fantastic dialogue with the children."

"Mr. Ferguson, do you have a list of the students who were in attendance last night?"

The man offered an amicable smile. "Of course. I'll be just a moment."

When the man walked off to fetch the aforementioned list, Kate turned to Ricki, stopping when she saw the furrowed brow on the writer's face. Kate cocked her head to the side, her fingers intertwining with Ricki's.

"What is it, Castle?"

The writer shook her head. "I just can't imagine what the El-Masris are going through right now." Ricki sighed, glancing down at her hand intertwined with Kate's. "Your worst fear as a parent coming true…"

Kate squeezed Ricki's hand in encouragement. "We'll find Sara."

"When Alexis was four…" Ricki shook her head. "…we went Christmas shopping at some mall in White Plains. I was trying on some…charcoal fedora. I turn around, she is _gone_. Vanished. I looked _everywhere_. So did mall security. So did the police. We searched for an hour." Ricki sighed. "Don't have to be a novelist to think of all the worst-case scenarios."

Kate kept her hand on Ricki's. "Where'd you find her?"

"Behind a rack of winter coats. She'd gotten bored." Ricki smirked and shook her head again. "She crawled underneath there and went to sleep." The writer looked up to see the bald man return. "To this day, I still dream about that."

Kate gave Ricki's hand one last squeeze before taking the sheet from Mr. Ferguson. "Thank you."

The detective and the writer both let their eyes scan over the document, pouring over name after generic, senseless name. Kate glanced up after the first pass through the list. "Mr. Ferguson, do you know any of these students? Would you be able to tell us if Sara El-Masri was here?"

The bald man's face lit up. "Oh, yes, Sara was here last night. She was with a friend she met earlier in the day. Redheaded girl, cute as a button."

Ricki tore her gaze from the paper, frowning. "Redhead?" The writer fished her phone out of her pocket, her thumb swiping over the device before she turned it toward Mr. Ferguson, a photo of a bright, smiling Alexis on the screen. "This her?"

Mr. Ferguson squinted, then nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, that's her."

Ricki and Kate looked down at the paper again, their eyes taking their time in going over the names again. Sure enough, Sara El-Masri's name was on the list, but the pang of familiarity hit Ricki again.

_Alexis Castle_.

"Alexis was here." Ricki gave Kate a glance, before her thumb swiped over her phone again. "Alexis was here! With Sara! Beckett…she might've been the last person to see Sara before she was taken."

"Castle, we need to talk to her."

Ricki pressed the phone to her ear. "Already on it."

But once the phone started ringing, Ricki turned around with a frown. Kate's movements matched her own, and the two women exchanged a confused glance before Ricki pulled the phone away from her ear. From the far side of the room, Ricki could hear Alexis' ringtone – the one she chose specifically for whenever Ricki called her.

The writer and the detective approached the source of the sound, a small cardboard box labeled _Lost and Found_. On top of the pile in the box, there sat Alexis' phone, Ricki's picture on the screen as the ringtone continued to play.

Ricki ended the call, her hand shaking. Before she could turn to look at Kate, she felt the detective's arms wrapping around her shoulders. Ricki leaned against her girlfriend, closing her eyes and swallowing back dread and bile.

The reality was sinking in, and it pressed into her gut like a stone.

"Beckett…"

The arms around her squeezed. "I know."

Ricki's voice caught in her throat, and her knees wobbled. "They took her…they took Alexis…"


	29. Chapter 29: Targeted

_Somewhere…_

Alexis Castle blinked the sleep out of her eyes, gingerly sitting up on the mattress. Her surroundings were dark, save the light bulb hanging off the low ceiling. Shaking her head, the teenager glanced to her right, her breath catching in her throat when she saw the other teenage girl unconscious.

"Sara?"

Alexis got no response, but she saw the other girl's shoulders rising and falling in a smooth rhythm. Okay, at least she was alive. The redhead forced herself to stand, relieved that nothing jolted with pain. A heavy door was closed on the other side of the room, and without even inspecting it, Alexis could tell it was locked.

"Sara?" Alexis dropped onto the mattress again, placing a gentle hand on the other girl's shoulder. "Sara, wake up!"

With a groan of protest, Sara did just that, lifting her head off the mattress and staring at Alexis through hooded eyes. She blinked and cringed before forcing herself to sit up and truly take in her surroundings.

"Where are we?" Panic flashed in Sara's eyes. "What happened?"

"I don't know, I…" Alexis shook her head. "I think we were taken."

"Oh, God…" Sara shook her head, curling up against herself and wrapping her arms around her legs. "Oh, God…my parents tried to warn me. They tried to tell me things like this were possible, but I didn't listen."

Alexis frowned. "Sara?"

"My father is a billionaire and a political heavyweight back in Saudi Arabia." Sara rubbed her temples. "When I enrolled in the program at Columbia, they hired a bodyguard for me, despite my begging them not to."

"Hey, it's gonna be okay." Even as she uttered the words, Alexis wasn't sure she believed them. "My mom works with the police. If we're still in New York, they'll find us soon enough, and then they'll track down whoever took us." The redhead flashed a hopeful smile. "Detective Beckett's not quite Liam Neeson, but she's the next best thing."

"We're going to die." Sara's lower lip started quivering. "We're going to die and it's all my fault!"

"Hey." Alexis grabbed Sara by the shoulders. "This is _not_ your fault, okay?"

The sound of footsteps approaching interrupted Alexis' pep talk, and both she and Sara fell silent, training their ears toward the door on the opposite end of the room. The footsteps stopped, before the door was pried open and the resulting squeak echoed in the spartan room. Alexis and Sara huddled up against each other.

Though the man entering the room was still mostly bathed in shadow, Alexis could see that he was tall, with broad shoulders and arms that looked like they had been chiseled from stone or granite. The black man was immaculately dressed in a tan suit with matching tie, and when his face finally emerged from the shadows, the earring on his left ear was almost blinding.

"Good evening, ladies." His voice was low, smooth. He almost sounded like Barry White – if Barry White were a well-dressed psychopath who made a habit of kidnapping teenage girls. "I trust you find your accommodations…most comfortable."

Alexis couldn't keep from shaking. "Who are you? What do you want with us?"

The towering man smiled, and for the first time, Alexis noticed the flecks of gray in his hair. "You'll find out soon enough, Ms. Castle."

* * *

_The loft…_

Ricki Castle couldn't stop pacing. If she stopped moving, if she sat down and let everything register, she feared she would fly off the handle, do or say something she would ultimately regret. Her hands shook, her eyes were red and burning with unshed tears. Kate sat at Ricki's desk, watching her girlfriend trying desperately to hold everything together.

But to be honest, Kate was having a hard time keeping it together herself. She hated seeing Ricki this way, in this much pain. It reminded the detective of when she had been in the hospital, recovering from a sniper shot to the heart.

No, this was worse. This was Ricki's only daughter.

Ricki tried to ignore the FBI agents that had descended upon her loft, commandeering the landline phones and setting up a mobile task force on the chance that Alexis' kidnappers would call wanting a ransom.

Whatever it was, Ricki would pay it. Anything to get her Alexis back.

A square-jawed man in a three-piece suit walked into Ricki's office. In any other circumstance, Ricki would've made a Captain America joke – because honestly, that chin – but given the situation, the writer kept the snark to herself.

"Ms. Castle." The man held out his right hand. "I'm Special Agent Will Sorenson with the FBI. I specialize in missing persons cases – especially those involving children."

Ricki shook Sorenson's hand, choosing – for the moment – to ignore the glance he exchanged with Kate. "Please tell me you can get my daughter back."

"The only thing I can promise, Ms. Castle, is that we will do everything we can to make that happen." Sorenson gave Ricki an almost imperceptible squeeze of the hand, determination in his eyes. "But in order to do that, you need to do _exactly_ as we say. Understand?"

Ricki nodded, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves.

"Now…we're operating under the assumption that Sara El-Masri was the target, and Alexis was taken as well, either as a matter of convenience or because she saw the captors and they considered her a liability." Sorenson glanced over Ricki's shoulder at Kate.

Kate nodded. "Either way, it's safe to assume that both girls are still alive. I'd even go so far as to say they're relatively unharmed."

"But what do the captors want?" Ricki shook her head. "Money?"

"Well, you _are_ rich, Castle."

"With all due respect to Ms. Castle…" Sorenson shook his head. "The El-Masris are wealthier than some entire countries. If there's a ransom, they'll be the ones asked to pay it."

"And then Sara and Alexis go free."

Sorenson shrugged. "That's our hope."

Ricki approached Sorenson, her eyes narrowed and her hands curling into fists. "Your _hope_? That's all you've got, Sorenson? _Hope_?" The writer felt Kate's steadying hand on her shoulder, but Ricki was frayed with emotion. "How do you know they won't release Sara and just kill Alexis? What _assurances_ do you have that my daughter will be okay?!"

In a moment like this, Ricki was glad Martha had her own place, her own life outside of the loft. There was no sense in wrangling her into all of this, particularly given her reservations about Ricki and Kate's relationship on numerous fronts.

The last thing Ricki needed was an _I told you so._

"Castle…"

"To be frank, Ms. Castle, we _don't_ have that assurance. But playing worst-case-scenario won't get us anywhere." Sorenson's eyes flicked downward, and when they looked at the writer again, there was an earnestness, a genuine need to help. "Until I see proof otherwise, I'm operating under the assumption that both girls are alive, safe, and in the event of a ransom demand, they will be both be released."

"Whatever they want." Ricki squeezed her eyes shut, her body tense against Kate's touch. "I'll pay it. If it means my little pumpkin walks through that door again, I'll pay whatever it takes."

Sorenson nodded and walked out of Ricki's office. "We'll keep that in mind."

No sooner did Sorenson leave the office, Kate approached Ricki from the front and wrapped her in a tight, desperate hug, resting her head against the writer's shoulder. Ricki's arms wrapped tightly around the detective, and her shoulders slumped, her eyes falling shut and the tear starting to fall.

Kate squeezed Ricki as hard as she could, fighting back tears of her own. "We'll get her back…"

"I wish I felt that confident…"

"Hey." Kate brushed a hand over Ricki's face, kissing her softly. "Everything we've endured already, and we've always come out the other side better for it. You hear me, Castle?"

The writer nodded and sniffled.

Before Kate could respond, her phone _pinged_ to signal an incoming text message. Keeping an arm wrapped around Ricki's waist, Kate checked the message with a frown. "It's Lanie. They found the van."

* * *

_Downtown Manhattan…_

By the time Ricki and Kate got to the scene, yellow crime scene tape was everywhere, uniformed officers keeping onlookers at bay while Lanie worked her magic in the back of the vehicle. The crumpled front bumper and blood spatter were familiar, but when Ricki caught sight of Lanie's feet hanging out the side of the van, she froze.

Kate frowned, giving Ricki's hand a squeeze. "Castle?"

Speechless, Ricki pointed at the van, feeling her knees suddenly going weak. Kate looked in the general direction, cupping her hand over her mouth when she saw dried blood inside the van and all over the pavement.

The two women shared a look, neither one wanting to voice what they were clearly both thinking.

Without another thought, Ricki made a beeline for the van, oblivious to Kate trying to restrain her. Ricki knew this was an active crime scene, she knew she didn't have a badge, but she didn't care because dammit, this was _Alexis_, and if that was her blood drying in that van…

The commotion had grabbed Lanie's attention, and she emerged from the back of the van with both hands splayed in front of herself. "Hold on there, Castle!"

Ricki finally stopped, her eyes red and puffy. Kate latched onto her, the detective's heartbeat just as rapid as the writer's. Both women looked at Lanie with wide, pleading eyes, but neither of them could find their voice.

Lanie, in a much softer tone, regarded Ricki. "What's your daughter's blood type?

"A-positive." Ricki's voice cracked.

Lanie closed her eyes and exhaled in relief. "That's B-negative. It's not your baby, Castle."

Ricki and Kate smiled and shared a brief kiss, though there were still tears in the writer's eyes. Kate reluctantly released her grip on her girlfriend, giving her a sympathetic nod before ducking under the crime scene tape to get a better look at the van.

Even amid the flickering blue and red lights, something caught Ricki's eye. She dropped to a knee, seeing another trail of blood along the pavement. It wasn't as dry as the blood in the van, and looking over her shoulder, Ricki decided to follow the trail.

Her steps were slow, careful not to lose the trail in the dark of the night and in the cascade of lights calling attention to this particular corner of Manhattan. The trail grew faint as Ricki approached an alley, and she stopped, wondering if maybe she should turn back.

A man groaning in pain caught her attention, and she disappeared into the alley.

Approaching the sound of the groaning, Ricki could barely make out a slightly heavy set man with a red beard crumpled on the pavement, bleeding from his abdomen. With any luck, that was a round left over from Hasim before the van hit him.

Ricki kneeled in front of the man, noting the anger and hate in his eyes when he registered her presence. The man's nostrils flared, and he sat up a little straighter, hissing in pain as more blood soaked into his shirt.

"You the driver?"

The man said nothing. Not that he had to.

Ricki poked at the man's chest, relishing in the way his pale face contorted in pain. "Where are the girls?"

"I don't talk to cops!"

"Good thing I'm not a cop." Ricki got in the man's face, ignoring the stench of day-old sweat rolling down his temple. "I got friends who are, but that's not why you should be so worried about me. You know that redhead?"

The man said nothing, but the look in his eyes told Ricki he knew.

"_That's my daughter_, you fucking shitstain!"

Fear flashed in the man's eyes, and he backed up even further against the brick wall. Ricki took pride in eliciting that reaction from him, her nostrils flaring.

"Who do you work for?"

The man shook his head, his breathing rapid and shallow. His eyes flicked back and forth, his shaky hands grasping for anything they could on the ground – yet they came up empty every single time. "I can't tell you! He'll kill me!"

"One more try." Something dark flashed in Ricki's eyes, her face contorting into a scowl she was pretty sure no one had ever seen from her before. Her hands were now remarkably steady, her finger hovering ever so close to the man's wound.

"Who. Do you. Work for?"

The man shook his head.

Ricki slid her finger into the bullet hole in the man's side, and his scream pierced the night and echoed off the walls of the alley.

* * *

_Ten minutes later…_

Making sure to wipe the man's blood off of her hands before exiting the alley, Ricki tried to lighten her expression. She didn't want Kate to know what she had just done, and she certainly didn't want her girlfriend seeing that sort of hate, of anger, in her eyes.

Ricki sighed and stepped out of the alley, thankful that Kate was still focused on the crime scene. It appeared the man's pained cries had gone unheard by everyone else, and Ricki was thankful that she wouldn't have to think up an explanation – for the time being, at least.

Still, she had a lead.

Ducking under the crime scene tape, Ricki approached Kate and kneeled beside her. They brushed hands, and Kate gave the most reassuring smile she could muster, given the gravity of the situation.

"Getting anywhere, Beckett?"

The detective shook her head with a sigh. "Not yet. CSU's gonna run DNA on the blood, but until we get that…" Both women stood. "I'm afraid we're at a standstill. I'm sorry, Castle."

Ricki looked over her shoulder before regarding the detective again, careful to keep her voice down. "Listen, uh…I think I got us a lead."

Kate's face contorted in a mixture of confusion and relief. "What?"

"Yeah." Ricki swallowed hard. "Just, uh…don't get mad, okay? I know I'm not a cop and I'm not supposed to do cop stuff, but…"

Kate grabbed Ricki's hand. "We'll worry about that later. What's the lead?"

Ricki looked Kate right in the eyes. "Does the name Vulcan Simmons mean anything to you?"


	30. Chapter 30: Desperate Times

_The Twelfth…_

"So what do we know about Vulcan Simmons?"

Detective Ryan slid his chair from his desk all the way to Kate's, plopping a manila folder stuffed to the proverbial gills with files, before loosening the blue tie around his neck and shaking his head. "Thanks to my days in Narcotics, quite a bit."

Pulling a mug shot from the file folder, Ryan slapped a magnet onto it and added Simmons' head shot to the white dry-erase board. Kate studied the black man's features, while Ricki sneered in disgust and shook her head.

"Simmons is big time, runs half of New York's drug trade." Ryan shook his head. "Don't let the size of his file fool you – Simmons hasn't been booked on anything in years, and even when he was racking up charges like a college freshman using daddy's credit card, nothing ever stuck."

Kate nodded, her arms folded over her chest. "So he's pretty much untouchable."

"Has his fingers in a lot of pies, too." Ryan opened a much smaller folder that had been tucked under his arm, studying the contents. "Remember Detective Raglan? Well, on top of being a dirty cop, he was also a degenerate. The man couldn't get enough of the horses."

Ricki flashed Ryan a confused look. "What does that have to do with Simmons?"

"Before he retired from the force, Raglan built up debt. Like, _a lot_ of it. Six figures. Then one day…debt's gone." Ryan shook his head again. "We never could pin it on anything, but when I was in Narcotics, we guessed he was running drugs for Simmons."

Disgust crept onto Kate's face, and she shook her head. "Any idea where Simmons is now?"

"My guess? Back where it all started roughly fifteen years ago: Washington Heights."

Kate immediately looked to Ricki. "Castle…my mom started a campaign in Washington Heights. 'Take Back the Night.' She was trying to clean that place up."

Ricki frowned. She didn't like where this was going. "Cutting into Simmons' profit margin. But…what does this have to do with Sara? With Alexis?"

Ryan shrugged. "Kidnapping has never been his M.O."

Kate stood, approaching the murder board and cocking her head to the side. Her eyes narrowed as they focused in on the sneering, smug image of Vulcan Simmons, all flashy suit and gold teeth.

"Let's ask him."

* * *

_Interrogation…_

It took far less time to get Vulcan Simmons into the box than Kate expected. Yet there he sat, wearing a crème-colored suit with a floral pattern tie. He carried with him an air of confidence, of smugness, like he knew no matter what happened in this cramped room, he was going to walk out a free man, content to continue whatever shady dealings he was currently wrapped up in.

Kate wanted nothing more than to slap that smug look off of Simmons' face. Ricki wanted nothing more than to bludgeon him in his temple with her heel before finding out where her daughter was.

But that sort of thing was frowned upon, so the two women just sat across from him, engaged in a staring contest of sorts before Kate opened her file and cleared her throat.

"You've painted since I was in here last." Simmons grinned, his eyes wandering the room. "That was _years _ago…you were probably in some back seat somewhere, getting' sweaty with a boy, trying to decide whether you were gonna give it to him or not."

Ricki snarled. "That's _enough_."

Something akin to recognition flashed in Simmons' eyes, and he regarded Ricki with a sly, knowing grin. "Oh…so that's how it is." He smirked. "She's sweet on you."

"Mr. Simmons, I'm Detective Kate Beckett—"

"Oh, I know who you are, Detective." Simmons sat up a little straighter, playing with the knot of his tie. For someone holed up in a dingy interrogation room, being stared down by one of the NYPD's finest, he didn't seem concerned about anything. "I know _exactly_ who you are."

Ignoring the jab, Kate read from her file. "We have reason to believe you're involved in the kidnapping of two teenage girls, Mr. Simmons. Do the names Sara El-Masri and Alexis Castle ring any bells?"

Simmons noticed the flare of darkness in the other woman's eyes at the mention of Alexis Castle. He regarded the dark-haired woman briefly, before turning his attention back to Kate – because if he was being honest with himself, Kate was the one who really interested him.

"I'm sorry, Detective. Can't say that they do." He pointed at the file on the table. "Then again, you probably already know kidnapping's not my thing."

Ricki balled her hands into fists under the table. "You mean you haven't picked up any new hobbies over the years?"

Simmons smirked, regarding Ricki. "And here begins what is known as 'the initial confrontation.' During this phase of interrogation, the interrogator may invade the suspect's space in order to increase his discomfort." The smile turned nasty. "Do you want to invade my personal space?"

Kate glared a hole through Simmons' head. "Look. At. Me."

Reluctantly, Simmons did just that.

"Two nights ago, a white van was used to kidnap Sara and Alexis. In the process of the kidnapping, that van struck and killed a man." Kate cocked her head to the side. "The driver of that van says _you _hired him."

Ricki shook her head. "Sara El-Masri's family is worth _a lot_ of money."

Simmons smirked again. "And this would be theme development. Presenting the crime through the eyes of the suspect."

"Answer the question, Mr. Simmons."

Instead, Simmons regarded Kate again, cocking his head to the side and narrowing his gaze. The man sat up a little straighter, clasping his hands together on top of the table, trying to keep the knowing smile off his face. "You know where I remember you from, Detective Beckett?" The smile turned into a sneer. "Your mother. Johanna Beckett. Bled out in an alley like the trash she was."

Kate flinched, trying desperately to hide it as anger and mourning flooded her hazel eyes. She clutched her pen a little tighter, feeling one of Ricki's hands go to her free hand under the table. She held Simmons' gaze, her jaw clenched. "Mr. Simmons, you better watch it…"

"Rich _bitch_ from Uptown on safari in the Heights." Simmons laughed and shook his head. "Someone should have warned her not to feed or tease the animals."

Anger threatening to boil over, Kate shook her head. "You…"

"If they had, she might not have gotten eaten." Simmons smirked, undoing the buttons on his blazer. "From what I hear, though? She was pretty tasty."

Before either Ricki or Simmons could react, Kate tossed her pen aside and lunged out of her seat, the chair falling to the floor as she leapt over the table, grabbed Simmons by the lapels of his blazer, and flung him against the two-way mirror so hard that the glass shattered. He laughed when his back slammed into the glass, shaking his head.

Kate's nostrils flared, and she ignored Ricki calling her name. The detective's knuckles turned white because of how tight her grip on Simmons was, her teeth gritted and anger filling her eyes. "Remember your old life, Simmons…_savor it_. Because I am gonna take it all away."

Simmons was still laughing by the time Detectives Ryan and Esposito burst into the interrogation room. Esposito grabbed Kate by the shoulder, trying to pull her off of Simmons, but she wouldn't budge.

"Stand down, Beckett!"

"That's _enough!_" Ryan chimed in.

Finally, Kate relented, storming out of the interrogation room with Ryan and Esposito following. Ricki approached Simmons, who was still wearing that smug little grin of his, buttoning his blazer once more. She got right in his face before reaching up to wrap a hand around his neck.

Again, Simmons smirked. "Oh, you want some too?"

"You listen to me, Vulcan Simmons." Ricki's nostrils flared. "I'm not a cop. I don't have to play by the rules. But know this: if we find out you took Alexis, you _will_ be answering to me."

* * *

_The stairwell…_

By the time Ricki wandered into the stairwell in the back corner of the precinct, she found Kate on her knees on the floor, face buried in her hands. Ricki was careful to make sure the door to the stairwell closed quietly before closing the distance between herself and the detective, gently getting onto her knees and placing a calming hand on Kate's shoulder.

"Kate…"

The detective shook her head and looked up. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her hands were trembling. "I fucked up, Castle." Kate sniffled and looked down at a random spot on the floor. "He played me and I bought in, like a fucking rookie."

"Beckett…"

"Dammit, Castle!" Kate clutched at the writer's shoulders, shaking her head. "Don't you see what this means?! I fucked up the best shot we had at getting your daughter back!"

"You don't know that, Kate." Ricki took Kate's face into her hands, thumbs brushing away tears before the writer leaned in for a soft, comforting kiss. "Besides…I have a theory."

With another sniffle, Kate shot Ricki a confused look.

"What if Simmons was involved, both in your mother's death and in this kidnapping?" Even as she spoke the words, Ricki felt the anger boiling in her gut, suppressing the urge to ball her hands into fists and take out all of her rage on the nearby wall. "Think about it…why else would he bring up Johanna, if what we were interrogating him over had nothing to do with her murder?"

"To get a rise out of me?" Kate shrugged and shook her head. "To make me act out so we'd have to spring him free?"

"I saw the look in his eyes when he mentioned your mom." Ricki shook her head. "There's something else there. This isn't just him playing tricks to get us to put him back out onto the streets."

"Maybe, but…" Kate sighed, resting her head against the wall. "What about the girls?"

"That's where my theory gets…bad." Ricki sat next to Kate, shaking her head, suddenly unable to hold the detective's gaze. Nausea tugged at her stomach, and Ricki took a ragged breath in an attempt to steady herself. "We've been assuming that Sara was the target this whole time."

"Right, because of her parents' wealth and political clout."

"But what if…" Ricki shook her head. "What if _Alexis_ was the target, and they kidnapped Sara too, just to throw us off?"

"But why?" Kate snaked her hand into Ricki's. "Castle, that doesn't make any sense."

"It does if it's related to your mom's murder." Ricki sighed. "What if…what if this is retribution? For all the progress we've made on the case? For killing Maddox? For threatening Senator Bracken?"

Kate shook her head, the grim realization taking hold. "That can't be." She sat up a little straighter; the tears were gone, but the streaks still clung to her cheeks. "That's a clear violation of the agreement I made with Bracken."

"Is it? Kate, the deal was to protect _you_."

"No, Castle." Kate took both of Ricki's hands into her own, looking directly into the writer's eyes. "I made that deal to protect _us_. Me or anyone I love – those were my exact words. That means you, Alexis, Martha, the boys…"

Ricki blinked. "You…you love Alexis?"

"Of course I do, Ricki." Kate caressed Ricki's cheek. "She's your daughter, and I love you, so…" A small smile tugged on the corners of Kate's mouth. "Besides, she's bright and caring and strong…how could I not?"

Ricki smiled and the two women kissed again. Once the kiss broke, Ricki brushed her thumb over Kate's lower lip. Her smile disappeared, though, and her brow furrowed. "Wait…if the deal's been broken, what happens now?"

"I try to find that tape." Kate sighed. "Then we release it."

"Can we do that _after_ we get Alexis back?" Ricki's smile was hopeful but sad. "I want her safe before we go prodding at Senator Bracken again."

"That's my hope." Kate shook her head. "But you know Gates is going to kick me off the case after what happened with Simmons – and she should. I was way out of line in there."

"Yeah, but…" A wry smile crept onto Ricki's face. "All the best cops – Dirty Harry, Cobra, that guy from _Police Academy_ who makes the helicopter noises – they all have one thing in common."

Kate arched a brow. "Plucky sidekick?"

"That, and they always do their very best work after they've been booted off a case."

Cocking her head to the side, Kate couldn't help but smirk. "Does that make you my plucky sidekick?"

Ricki shrugged with a smile before standing.

Kate studied her girlfriend, her smile disappearing as she shook her head. "Plucky sidekick always gets killed."

Ricki shrugged and held out her hand, smiling when Kate took it and rose to her feet. The writer wrapped an arm around Kate's waist and their bodies pressed together in concert with their lips. Ricki's smile grew once the kiss broke.

"Partner, then."


	31. Chapter 31: Single-Minded

**_Author's Note: Please, if you're reading this story and liking what you see, feel free to drop me a note. Reviews are much-appreciated!_**

* * *

_Ricki's loft…_

As soon as Ricki walked into her loft, she marched to the makeshift command center Agent Sorenson had set up in the case of a ransom call. Kate was beside her, stride for stride, and Ricki stopped once Will Sorenson saw her approaching and straightened his posture.

"Vulcan Simmons." Ricki sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep her hands from shaking.

Sorenson folded his hands over his chest. "What about him?"

"We have reason to believe he's involved in the kidnapping." Kate sighed, and Ricki noticed that the detective was making a point not to look at Sorenson. "Which means, if we're right, this isn't about a ransom and it's not about the El-Masri family."

Clearly skeptical, Sorenson shook his head and scratched an imaginary itch on the back of his head. "You telling me your daughter's the target?"

"This is more than just a kidnapping, Will." Kate crossed in front of Ricki, who frowned at the fact that the detective was using the agent's first name. "This is a conspiracy that goes deeper than any of us know, and we have reason to believe it might be connected to my mother's murder."

"Oh, for god's sake…" Sorenson rolled his eyes and shook his head. "We really gonna go down this road again, Katie? You haven't changed a bit."

"I've changed quite a bit, Will." Kate folded her arms across her chest. "And we're not wrong on this."

Before Will could react – and before Ricki could ask just what the hell was going on with those two – the door to the loft opened. Ricki's heart sank when she watched Martha walk through the threshold. Her mother wore a look of worry, one that only deepened when she saw the makeshift command center in the kitchen.

"Rebecca…" Martha closed the distance to her daughter. "Is it true…?"

Giving Kate a sad look, Ricki took Martha by the arm and tried to hide the worry in her eyes. "I'll be back," she uttered before leading her mother into the office, shutting the door behind them.

* * *

_Ricki's office…_

As soon as the door to her office closed, Ricki grabbed both of Martha's shoulders and heaved a sigh. The bags under her eyes were darker than her mascara, and though she didn't want her mother to see them, Ricki knew Martha would notice the faint streaks running down her face.

"Mother…"

"Rebecca." Martha sucked in a deep breath, her lower lip quivering ever so slightly. "Where is Alexis?"

"She was taken." Ricki shook her head, tightening her grip on Martha's shoulders. "She was with another young girl named Sara at Columbia last night. We thought Sara was the target, but now we're thinking Alexis was the target, as a way to get to me and Beckett."

"Oh, God…" Martha shook her head. "Oh, God, Rebecca…"

"Agent Sorenson and the FBI are all over this, and Kate and I have been following a lead all day—"

"I was afraid of this." Martha sat on the arm of one of the chairs across from Ricki's desk, ignoring the stack of _Storm Fall_ and _Heat Wave_ hardcovers that Black Pawn wanted signed. "This was _exactly_ what I was afraid of when you started shadowing Katherine."

"Mother—"

"Rebecca, this has to stop!" The rise in Martha's voice made Ricki flinch, but the writer slumped her shoulders when she saw the tears in the older redhead's eyes. "If you wish to remain romantically involved with Katherine, that is one thing – she is a remarkable woman who has clearly made you incredibly happy. But this…professional arrangement…"

Martha hung her head, tears running down her cheeks as Ricki closed the distance between them, dropped to her knees, and cupped her mother's face in her hands. She didn't know what to say, part of Ricki knowing nothing she could say would assuage Martha's fears, so she just pressed her forehead to her mother's, closing her eyes.

"If something happens to Alexis…" Martha sucked in another deep breath before lifting her head and giving Ricki a look she hadn't seen in years. "Because of your association with Katherine, then Rebecca, I don't know if I could ever forgive you."

Before Ricki could react, Martha rose from her seat and walked out of the office.

* * *

_Meanwhile…_

"Not everything is related to your mom's case!"

"But _this_ is, Will!" Kate jabbed her finger into Sorenson's broad chest, taking silent pleasure in seeing how her finger messed up his _pristine_ tie. Sorenson had always cared far more about his appearance than he should've, and she long ago enjoyed poking at him for it.

Right now, though, she wanted to yank that tie off his neck and stuff it down his throat.

"What, so putting a bullet in your chest wasn't enough?" Sorenson's eyes flashed in anger before he saw her shoulders fall, and he sighed. "I heard about it on the news."

"Whoever took Alexis did so because they want me to back off." Kate shook her head, folding her arms over her chest. "I know Bracken's behind all this, I just _know_ it. I just—"

"Wait." Sorenson shook his head. "Bracken. As in _Senator_ Bracken?"

Kate nodded.

"That's a _very_ serious accusation, Kate." Sorenson huffed a laugh of disbelief, shaking his head. "The man's running for president, and you're accusing him of conspiracy to commit murder."

"He blackmailed three dirty cops to fund his first Congressional campaign." Kate's eyes narrowed. "Who knows what else the fucking weasel's capable of?"

"Okay, see, this? This right here?" Sorenson shook his head. "That's why I jumped on the job in Boston. What we had was so one-sided, because every time I looked up, your nose was buried in that damn file!"

"You asked me to go with you."

"Hoping it would make you _drop that fucking case_!" Sorenson gritted his teeth, approaching Kate as his cheeks turned red. "Dammit, Katie, I was trying to show you there was more to your life – _more to you_ – than jumping down that rabbit hole!"

"You don't think I know that now, Will?!" Kate shook her head. "You think I haven't learned that lesson over the past six years?"

"Obviously not! Cause every other word out of your mouth is still Johanna _fucking_ Beckett!"

Without thinking, Kate slammed her fist across Sorenson's face, taking a perverse sense of pride in the sound of her hand colliding with his nose. She was pretty sure she broke it, and she suppressed a smile when she saw the blood trickling down over his upper lip. Her hands were still fists, and she shook her head, getting in Sorenson's face.

"You don't get to say that name anymore." Kate gritted her teeth and narrowed her gaze. "Now, get back over there, do your _goddamn _job, and find my girlfriend's daughter."

Confusion flashed in Sorenson's eyes, and he cast a sideways glance when the door to Ricki's office opened again. He turned back to the command center as the older redhead stormed out, approaching Kate and squinting when she got to the detective.

"Martha…"

"If anything – _anything_ – happens to Alexis…" Martha shook her head and her nostrils flared before she turned and left the loft, slamming the door behind her. Kate sighed and closed her eyes, shaking her head and rubbing the knuckles on her right hand.

Anxious to put even more distance between herself and Sorenson, Kate wandered toward Ricki's office, frowning when she saw the writer curled up in one of the chairs, her eyes red and puffy as she absentmindedly thumbed through a hardcover of _Heat Wave_.

Ricki looked up when she felt Kate's fingers brushing through her hair, sniffling and faking a smile as she put the book back on the stack. They really needed to be signed; somehow, she doubted George would give her an extension, even with her daughter missing.

Because George was a fucking prick.

"Hey…"

"Hi." Kate stared at the floor. "I'm guessing Martha's not taking it well."

Ricki shook her head. "Normally, I'd say it's just her natural flair for the dramatic, but…she adores Alexis, as much as I do, and…Mother hated Martin, but she always told me Alexis was the only good thing to come out of that relationship."

Kate sat on the floor next to Ricki, placing a soft kiss on the writer's knee. Ricki took Kate's hand and their fingers intertwined…before Ricki took a closer look at Kate's knuckles, which were newly-red and sore.

"Captain American your sparring partner or something, Beckett?"

Kate sighed and shook her head. "Will and I…we have a past, Castle."

"I figured." Ricki shrugged when Kate flashed her a confused look. "Sidelong glances, avoiding eye contact…the fact that he called you Katie…"

"Years ago, he was working Missing Persons for the NYPD." Kate rested her chin on Ricki's knee. "We collaborated on a case that involved a missing 4-year-old girl. We solved the case, we saved the girl, and we just…clicked. It was nice at first."

"And then?"

"This was back when I was still investigating my mom's case every night." Kate shook her head. "He hated it. Kept trying to talk me into stopping, into giving up. Six months in, he gets a job offer. FBI up in Boston. He jumps at the chance and begs me to go with him."

Ricki shook her head. "Get you out of New York, get you away from that case."

"Basically." Kate heaved a weary sigh. "It was a messy break-up. And when I mentioned earlier that we thought Alexis' kidnapping was related…"

"He snapped."

"Yep." Kate showed off her knuckles again. "And then so did I."

"I knew there was a reason I hated him."

Kate couldn't help but smile, but the smile disappeared as soon as there was a knock on the door to Ricki's office. Sorenson stuck his head into the room, his nose crooked and a nasty bruise forming on his cheek. He saw the two women cuddled up against each other, and he tore away his eyes.

"We got a…" He cleared his throat. "We got a call."

Ricki and Kate made a beeline – hand-in-hand – to the kitchen, where Sorenson waved for one of the techs to place the call on speakerphone. He then gave Ricki a long, meaningful look before nodding and mouthing the word _go_.

Ricki sighed and glanced at Kate. "Castle."

"_Ricki Castle._" The baritone voice sent a chill down the writer's spine. "_That was quite the performance you put on at the precinct today. Don't suppose that did your girl any favors with her boss, though. Shame, too, she's a lot stronger than she looks. I'm still picking bits of glass out of my suit._"

"Too bad they're not picking them out of the back of your head, Simmons."

"_Now now, Ricki Castle…you keep acting hostile like that, you won't find out where that precious little redhead of yours is._"

Kate squeezed Ricki's hand as the writer spoke: "Funny, you told us you didn't know anything about that."

Ricki's eyes flicked to Sorenson, who waved circles with his index finger, telling her to keep going. They were busy tracing the call, trying to get a bead on where Vulcan Simmons was; with any luck, the girls would be there, too.

"_I said no such thing._"

"Right…because you were too busy pissing all over my girlfriend's mother's grave."

"_Mm. Girlfriend. I knew there something between the two of you._" Ricki felt like she could _hear_ Simmons' sneer over the phone, and she shuddered at the visual. "_I did say I didn't kidnap her, though, and I was telling the truth about that. Human trafficking isn't my thing._"

"No. Just drugs."

Simmons belted out a belly laugh. "_If you saw the money in it, Ricki Castle, you'd want yourself a piece of the pie too. Not that you need the money now, but still._"

"What do you want, Vulcan?"

"_I want that bitch of yours to back off._" The two women squeezed each other's hand, anger flaring in Ricki's eyes. "_I want assurances, once and for all, that she will no longer pursue her mother's investigation_."

"Kinda hard…" Ricki shook her head. "…considering it seems to keep falling in her lap."

"_That's the deal, Ricki Castle. Detective Beckett backs off, you get your girl back._"

The line went dead before anyone could respond.

Kate's eyes shot daggers at Sorenson. "Believe me now, Will?"

Sorenson ignored the jab, leaning over one of the techs, his face close enough to the laptop that the light from the monitor bathed his face and hid the bruise. He straightened with a fist pump, grabbing a smartphone from the inside of his blazer. "Got him."

Kate squeezed Ricki's hand again, and the two women exchanged a look before Ricki sucked in a deep breath and bore a hole into Sorenson with her gaze, watching him press the phone to his ear.

"McCord. Sorenson here." The agent rubbed his bruise, grimacing. "Listen, I'm sending you coordinates. We've got a case here in New York, two 14-year-old girls were kidnapped, and we have reason to believe they've been transported to D.C."

Ricki frowned.

"A man named Vulcan Simmons." Sorenson shook his head. "I'm not familiar; never heard the name til about twenty minutes ago. I'll consult with the NYPD, see what they have on him. When I find out, I'll let you know.

"Thanks, Rachel."


	32. Chapter 32: Time Running Out

_**Author's Note: Welp, shit's getting real again...I'm having so much fun writing this story, and I hope you all are having just as much fun reading it. Reviews are appreciated!**_

* * *

_Somewhere in Washington, DC…_

Despite the fact that Vulcan Simmons hadn't harmed Alexis or Sara since their abduction a day and a half earlier, the two teenage girls still recoiled in fear whenever he decided to "grace" them with his presence. His presence was so large, so menacing, that the simple act of him walking into a room was intimidating in its own right.

That Alexis could overhear his end of a telephone conversation just minutes earlier did little to assuage her fear. The redhead huddled against herself, her back pressed flat against the cold wall, her arms wrapped around her knees.

Sara was sound asleep, sheer exhaustion overpowering her own fear for the moment.

The door cracked open and Alexis held her breath. She tried her best not to shake, but the towering, shadowy figure made her blood run cold and she lost what little color her face actually had. Alexis glanced at the other girl, who miraculously was still asleep.

Simmons stopped at the doorway before raising his right arm and flicking his index finger back and forth, as if he were beckoning the young redhead. She hesitated at first, every instinct in her body screaming for her not to approach the menacing figure, but logic told her following instructions was the best course of action at the moment.

Reluctantly, Alexis uncurled her legs and rose to her feet, taking cautious steps toward Simmons. His tie was gone, the collar of his mustard-yellow dress shirt disheveled. Annoyance flashed in his eyes, even as he gave Alexis a toothy grimace of a smile.

"Your mother is a lot of things, Alexis." Simmons couldn't help but chuckle. "Smart isn't one of them."

"You don't honestly expect them to believe you didn't take me, do you?"

"No." Simmons stroked his chin. "I was just buying time. Not that I have to worry about your mother or her…_friend_." He chuckled, and the sound sent another cold chill down the teenager's spine. "Where we are, Detective Beckett has no jurisdiction."

"Like that's really gonna stop her." Alexis quirked an eyebrow, folding her arms over her chest. She wouldn't go so far as to call Vulcan Simmons stupid; no, this was more hubris than anything else, and maybe she could use that to her advantage.

"Something on your mind, little girl?"

"Oh, nothing." Alexis shrugged her shoulders. "Just…throwing Detective Beckett's mother in her face doesn't seem like the smartest thing in the world."

"Really." The smile on Simmons' face disappeared as he dropped to a knee. "Do tell."

"It's like waving fresh blood in the face of a great white." Alexis shook her head. "Once you've done that, no matter how many times you tell that shark to stop, it's gonna keep swimming." A tiny smile tickled the corners of the teenager's mouth, and she didn't try to hide it. "She took a bullet to the chest and lived. She watched the same sniper put a bullet in my mom, and now that sniper is dead."

Understanding etched its way into Simmons' dark features, and his nostrils flared with the frustrated sigh expelling from his lungs. He shook his head, his right hand curling into a light fist.

"Taking me was a mistake, too." Alexis scoffed and shook her head. "Detective Beckett and my mom aren't just some cute little fantasy for you to waste away the night dreaming about…they're madly, deeply, sickeningly in love with each other, so…stealing Ricki Castle's kid? I'd like to think someone as powerful as you is smarter than that."

"And if I'm merely following orders?"

"Then your boss is an idiot." Alexis was so matter-of-fact, the slight tilt of her right shoulder accentuating what she considered to be such a blatant truth that everyone knew it.

"Maybe so…" Simmons stood again, grabbing his phone from the inside of his blazer, swiping his thumb over the contacts. "But he's powerful and untouchable. Either way, this is almost over." Turning to leave the room, Simmons flashed another smile that showed off his gold teeth, ignoring Alexis' scowl.

"Yes." Simmons spoke into his phone. "Contact the El-Masris, tell them the 30 million-dollar random is acceptable. They wire the money in twenty-four hours, I'll release their daughter." Simmons laughed and glanced over his shoulder. "No…no, I think I'll hold onto the redhead for a little while longer."

Alexis watched Vulcan Simmons disappear down the hall, too busy pocketing his phone to close the door to the room where she and Sara were being kept. She jumped, though, at the sound of a muffled gunshot filling the otherwise silent air, jumping back with a gasp when she saw Simmons fall lifeless to the floor, a bullet hole in the center of his forehead.

The blood trickled down his forehead and onto the floor, and before Alexis could move or react, she watched another tall man dressed in military fatigues stomp into the room, a semi-automatic rifle cradled in his right arm. The man wore white hair and a matching beard, and there was a scar running down the right side of his face.

His eyes were a striking blue – not unlike Alexis'.

"You Alexis Castle?" The man's voice was gruff, like he had a mouth full of sandpaper.

The teenager could only nod.

The man holstered his weapon and walked past Alexis before kneeling down and picking up the sleeping Sara, hoisting her over his shoulder. "Good. And I'm guessing this is the El-Masri girl?"

Again, Alexis could only nod.

"Let's go, then." The man walked past Alexis again, and she followed him as he stepped out of the room, careful not to step on Vulcan Simmons' considerable corpse. Alexis gave the black man one last look, part of her actually disappointed that neither her mother nor Detective Beckett would get a shot at him.

Still…gift horse, mouth, all that jazz.

"Who _are_ you?"

The man turned the corner, careful to make sure his steps weren't too forceful, lest he wake the sleeping teenager with her head pressed against his shoulder. "A friend."

"How do I know that?" Alexis shook her head, struggling to keep up. "How do I know you're not another crony like Simmons?"

"I'm getting you out of here, aren't I?"

Alexis sighed; she couldn't really argue with that logic. "Can I at least get a name?"

The man stopped in his tracks, looking over his shoulder at the redhead, and a mysterious, almost devilish, glint flickered in his eyes. "Derrick Storm."

Alexis watched the man start walking again, her mouth agape.

"_What?!_"

* * *

_Ricki's loft…_

With the location of Vulcan Simmons ascertained, the FBI task force that had set up shop in Ricki's kitchen had left – which was a relief, not just because it meant she was closer to potentially getting her daughter back, but because it meant Will Sorenson was no longer in the picture. Things were tense enough with Alexis gone; Ricki didn't care for one of Kate's exes skulking about the place too.

But the tension remained, mostly because of Martha's declaration the previous night – the one where she blamed Kate for Alexis' kidnapping and the assertion that if anything happened to the younger redhead, Martha would never forgive her only daughter.

For all the issues Ricki and Martha had over the years, there was never any outright animosity between them. But if Ricki didn't get Alexis back alive and safe…

Ricki sat hunched over the island in her kitchen, nursing on her mug of coffee as another mug sat on the island, steaming and waiting for its intended. Kate emerged from Ricki's office, wearing a surprisingly easy smile on her face and carrying a box.

Ricki quirked a brow, handing Kate the other mug once the detective set the box on the island. "Good morning, Detective Beckett."

She gave Ricki a knowing smile before taking her first sip. "Morning, Castle."

Ricki pointed at the box. "What's the occasion?"

Kate cocked her head to the side with a frown. "Seriously, Castle? It's your birthday."

Ricki blinked. "Is it?" She took a sip of coffee, mostly to buy herself a few seconds. "Huh…I guess with everything that's been going on lately, it slipped my mind. I mean…what's my birthday if my daughter's not here?"

Kate cradled Ricki's hand into hers, closing the distance between them and giving the writer a slow, loving kiss. "We'll get her back, Ricki. The FBI has a location, they have a plan. Alexis'll be bursting through that door and into your arms before you know it."

Ricki gave a sad smile and pressed her forehead against Kate's. They shared a quiet moment, letting the hopefulness fill them both, before Kate pushed the box in front of Ricki, her smile growing.

"In the meantime, I think we could use a little happy…so go on, open it."

Ricki did just that, pulling the top off the white box and tearing through the tissue paper. She gasped when the gift was revealed to her, smiling from ear to ear as she reached into the box – before pulling out a navy blue bulletproof vest, almost exactly like the one Kate and the boys wore from time to time.

But instead of "NYPD" or "POLICE," this one read "WRITER."

"Oh my god…Kate!" Ricki clutched the vest against her chest, her smile growing even more as she started bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. "I _love_ this!"

Kate couldn't keep the smile off her face if a gun had been pointed at her head. "Yeah?"

"Of course!" Ricki tore at the Velcro straps before hoisting the vest over her shoulders and replacing the straps again. The writer smoothed her hands over the front of the vest again before giving Kate another smile and approaching for a deep kiss.

Kate smiled against Ricki's lips, wrapping her arms around the writer's waist before reluctantly breaking the kiss and rubbing her nose lightly against Ricki's. "Happy Birthday, Castle."

The smile on Ricki's face never faltered. "I'm officially part of the team now. I can't wait to wear this thing in the field."

Kate couldn't hide the laugh that spilled from her throat. "Let's not get too carried away with testing it out, though, okay?"

"Yeah, I think I've had enough being shot for one lifetime."

A knock at the door interrupted the moment, and Ricki felt her heart skip a beat. Was this about Alexis? Exchanging a look with Kate, the writer sucked in a deep breath in an attempt to keep her nerves in check before she crossed to the front door and pulled it open.

"Captain Gates." The frown on Ricki's face deepened. "What are you doing here?"

Victoria Gates quirked a brow at the sight of Ricki Castle wearing a bulletproof vest before shaking her head. "I'm here to see Detective Beckett."

Ricki stood to the side. "Well, in that case, come on in."

As soon as she saw Captain Gates step into the loft, Kate lowered her gaze and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Sir, I know what I did yesterday was wrong—"

"You're damn right it was, Detective! We're just lucky Mr. Simmons isn't building an army of lawyers to sue us all the way to Ithaca." The captain sighed and shook her head. "I could overlook that, if it were the only case of you acting irrationally."

Kate frowned, casting a glance at Ricki. "Sir?"

"You assaulted a federal agent last night?" Gates shook her head, approaching Kate and thrusting a thumb over her shoulder. "Not to mention your little…arrangement with your girlfriend here? The one where you went over Captain Montgomery's head to get the mayor's okay?"

"Actually," Ricki interrupted, "I was the one who went to the mayor."

Gates ignored Ricki, getting even closer to Kate and narrowing her gaze. "Allowing an unqualified civilian to accompany you to crime scenes, interrogations…a decision that has led to both of you being shot, might I add." Gates shook her head. "Assaulting a suspect, assaulting a federal agent…Detective Beckett, I must say, the reality is not matching the reputation."

"Sir—"

"The youngest woman ever to make Detective in the NYPD." Gates shook her head. "Beat me by six weeks. The way Montgomery talked, I was led to believe you walked on water, Detective. Yet here you are, up to your neck in it and the water level's rising."

"I'm sorry, sir, but—"

"You're _sorry_, Detective?" Gates shrugged her shoulders. "And what is that supposed to accomplish, exactly? Sorry won't solve your mother's case. Sorry won't bring back Ms. Castle's daughter. Fact of the matter is, you're becoming a liability, Detective."

Kate's mouth hung open, and she shook her head. "How can you—"

"I have enough of a mess on my hands with Montgomery's little scheme. The last thing I need is his pet detective playing loose with the rules and doing whatever she damn well pleases, no matter the consequences." The captain extended her right arm, palm open. "Your badge and gun, Detective."

Kate frowned. "You're suspending me?"

"No." Victoria Gates shook her head. "I'm firing you."


	33. Chapter 33: Spy Daddy

_Ricki's loft…_

"They can't _do that_! Can they?"

Kate sighed and shook her head, staring at a random spot on the floor. "I believe they just did, Castle."

"No." Ricki paced back and forth in the foyer to her loft, shaking her head and still wearing the bulletproof vest her girlfriend had just given her as a birthday gift. The last thing she wanted to do right now was take it off. "No, that's _bullshit_, Kate! You're the best they've got. And fucking Gates—"

"I guarantee Gates is just following orders." Kate sniffled and took a seat on one of the stools at the island in the kitchen. "That's really all she's good for. One PP places the hurdles and she dutifully jumps over them."

"I can call the mayor!" Ricki was still pacing, wringing her hands together. "One phone call to Bob and we can have you back at the Twelfth in no time!"

"No, Castle, just…" Kate crossed the distance between herself and the writer, wrapping her arms against Ricki's waist and burrowing her face in the crevice between her neck and shoulder. Ricki's arms automatically went around Kate's shoulders, giving them a squeeze. Ricki pressed the side of her head against Kate's, and the two women fell silent.

Ricki tightened her grip on her girlfriend, secretly wishing she had taken off the vest after all – if for no other reason than one of the side compartments was pressed into her ribcage and it was getting a little uncomfortable.

But she kept her grip on Kate, closing her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Castle."

Ricki almost didn't hear her, but even when the words registered, she could hear her lover's voice crack a little. Ricki pulled out of the embrace just enough to look at Kate, brushing her thumb over her cheek. "Hey, no…"

"No, I mean it." Kate shook her head, her lower lip quivering. "I've been nothing but trouble since we met, Castle. Your first case shadowing me threw us right back into my mom's case…I got shot, _you_ got shot, and now your daughter's missing and now we can't do anything to save her and I'd understand completely if you hated me and wanted nothing more to do with m—"

Ricki's lips crashed against Kate's, the writer's hands cradling her girlfriend's cheeks. Kate rested her hands on Ricki's shoulder, closing her eyes and deepening the kiss, ignoring the stray tears rolling down her cheeks.

Ricki broke the kiss, placing a series of small, loving kisses to Kate's forehead, still holding the former detective's face in her hands. "Listen to me, Kate…"

Kate's eyes drifted up to Ricki's.

"You're not a burden to me. You never have been." Ricki kissed Kate's forehead again. "I don't care what anyone says – not Esposito, not Captain America, not Mother, no one. I love you, Kate Beckett, and badge or no badge, you are the most remarkable, extraordinary person I've ever met."

Burying her face in the crook of Ricki's neck again, Kate tightened her grip on her lower, closing her eyes and simply enjoying the warmth of Ricki's body and the comfort of her words. Ricki's words had comforted Kate for years, and she still had to pinch herself over the fact that they could now do so in a more personal manner.

"We'll figure all of this out," Ricki promised. "We'll get Alexis back. We'll solve your mother's case. One way or another, you'll get your badge back."

Kate pulled back to look in Ricki's eyes, shaking her head. "How are you so sure of all this?"

"You almost died, Kate. Hell, _I_ almost died." Ricki brushed a strand of hair behind Kate's ear, smiling warmly at her girlfriend. "Yet here we still are. We've done the impossible, Beckett, and that makes us mighty."

Kate smiled and kissed Ricki. "You're pretty amazing, you know that?"

"I have my moments."

Another knock at the door interrupted the moment, which prompted an eye-roll from Kate and a confused look from Ricki. The two women exchanged a look before Ricki gave Kate's hand a squeeze and went to answer the door.

* * *

_The Twelfth…_

Detectives Ryan and Esposito didn't bother knocking before pushing their way into Victoria Gates' office, Esposito slamming the door shut behind him with enough force that the blinds banged against the glass and drew the attention of several uniforms throughout the bullpen.

Looking up from her paperwork, Gates removed her glasses with a sigh before leaning back in her chair. "And here comes the part where the loyal partners demand answers."

"No." Esposito's hands were clenched into tight fists. "This is the part where Ryan and I call you out on your holier-than-thou Internal Affairs downtown bullshit…_sir_."

Gates folded her arms over her chest. "Is that so, Detective."

"Are you really gonna kick out the best cop we've ever had in Homicide?" Ryan shook his head, his hands firmly planted in his pockets. He was fidgety and nervous, but to his credit, Ryan wasn't shirking away from Gates. "I mean, have you seen her closure rate?"

"That doesn't give Detective Beckett the right to take matters into her own hands and act irrationally." Gates shrugged. "And you can't tell me you agree with her decision to allow an untrained civilian to tag along while you solve cases."

Ryan and Esposito shared a glance, before the latter detective leaned forward and rested his fists on the surface of the desk. "Is that what this is? You don't like the fact that Castle's been shadowing Detective Beckett?"

"Or do you just not like the fact that Beckett's with a woman?"

Disbelief and anger flashed in Gates' eyes, and she leaned forward in her chair. "You better be damn careful when you go around accusing people of being bigots, Detective Ryan." The interim captain sank back in her chair again. "Look, I get it. You're both upset that Detective Beckett's no longer a part of this team. But it's her own fault, and you two would do well to learn from her example and make sure you don't make the same mistakes. You're good detectives; I'm sure you'll do just fine without her."

Ryan and Esposito exchanged another look and a nod before Esposito regarded Gates again, disdain and anger in his eyes as he grabbed the badge hanging off the chain around his neck, pulling it off, and tossing it onto Gates' desk. He reached behind him to grab his service piece, placing it on the desk as well.

"No." He shook his head. "Fuck you. I'm out."

Gates looked stunned as Esposito walked out of her office, not noticing as Ryan approached her desk. Once his presence finally registered, she saw him place his badge and gun on her desk as well.

"Roy Montgomery might've been a dirty cop…" Ryan shook his head. "…but at least he knew how to run a precinct. I quit."

* * *

_Ricki's loft…_

As soon as Ricki opened the door, a streak of red rushed toward her, small arms wrapping around her waist and causing the writer to lose her footing. Ricki's arms wrapped around the form pressed against her, more for the sake of her own balance than anything. Once her fingers brushed against soft hair, though, Ricki looked down and almost lost her breath.

"Alexis?" Ricki dropped to her knees, her eyes wide. "Alexis!"

The writer wrapped her daughter in the tightest hug she could possibly muster, squeezing her eyes shut as tears built in them. Alexis returned the hug in kind, her shoulders bobbing up and down. Ricki stroked the teenager's hair, kissing the top of her head and sucking in a deep, ragged breath.

"It's okay, pumpkin." Ricki glanced at Kate, a tear rolling down her cheek. "You're okay. It's okay. You're home now…"

Kate joined the two women in the doorway, wrapping her arms around Ricki and giving her girlfriend a squeeze. The former detective then looked up to see a tall man with broad shoulders standing before the trio in military fatigues, his hair and beard white. She cringed at the sight of the scar on his face, before her eyes went to the teenage girl standing to his right.

"Sara El-Masri?"

The young girl nodded.

Relief took over the disappointment of having lost her job, and even though she was no longer a cop, Kate's detective instincts took over. She led Sara into the loft, kissing the top of Ricki's head before leading the other teenage girl into Ricki's office, pulling her phone out of her pocket.

Badge or no badge, she was going to reunite Sara with her parents.

Finally pulling Alexis out of her embrace, Ricki smiled and sniffled, cradling her daughter's face in her hands. Alexis smiled and brushed aside a tear that fell down her mother's cheek, and Ricki huffed a nervous laugh.

"Are you okay? You're not hurt, are you?"

Alexis shook her head. "We're okay, mom. We're okay."

Ricki pulled her daughter into another tight hug, letting out the sob she'd been holding onto for the last couple days. She squeezed the redhead before pulling out of the embrace and kissing Alexis' forehead. "I bet you're _starving_."

"Actually…" A gruff male voice interrupted the moment. "We ate on the way over here."

For the first time, Ricki noticed the man standing in the doorway, frowning at his military getup and the weapon strapped to his back. She stood, her hand on Alexis' back, cocking her head to the side. "I'm sorry, and you are…?"

"The man who saved your daughter." The man sounded like his vocal cords were made of sandpaper. He stepped across the threshold into the loft, and when Ricki caught sight of his striking blue eyes, she frowned in confusion.

"Well, believe me when I say I can't say 'thank you' enough." Ricki shook her head. "But…that easy? Just like that?"

The man shrugged. "Put a bullet in Vulcan Simmons' head and got them out."

"Who _are_ you?" Ricki shook her head, following the man to the kitchen, trying not to freak out over the fact that he was treating himself like he was at home, pulling open her fridge and grabbing a bottle of water, downing half of it in one chug.

"CIA." The man shrugged. "Sort of. Been tailing Simmons' associates for a long time. Hostage recovery wasn't exactly my mission, but once I saw he had two teenage girls hostage – and I saw who they were – I had to act."

"Yeah, well, the daughter of a Saudi billionaire is a pretty big deal."

The man shook his head. "Actually, I was talking about Alexis."

"But why would…" Ricki shook her head. "I'm sorry, I'm having trouble wrapping my head around this. First, I find out my daughter was the target, and now you're telling me my daughter was the reason you intervened? I mean, I'm glad you did, don't get me wrong, but…I'm afraid I don't follow."

"Come on, you're the mystery writer. You mean to tell me you can't put two and two together?"

"You're investigating Senator Bracken, aren't you?"

The man shrugged. "That's classified."

"Don't you 'that's classified' me!" Ricki crossed the island, getting in the man's face. For some reason, she felt emboldened by the vest she was still wearing, even though she knew this man wouldn't dare fire his weapon here, even if provoked. "What's going on here? What are you investigating? And for that matter…who the hell are you?!"

The man smirked, crossing back to the living room. "Call me Derrick Storm."

Ricki laughed and shook her head. "Right, okay. Ha-ha, very funny." Ricki followed the man with a shrug of her shoulders. "No really, who are you?"

"I just told you."

"Okay, are we just going to ignore the fact that Derrick Storm isn't real?" Ricki shook her head. "Not to mention dead?"

"Two facts that make it easier for me to do my job unnoticed."

"Fine. I guess I won't sue for copyright infringement, then." Ricki shook her head, crossing in front of the man who had borrowed her most famous character's name, casting a glance at his face. "There's something else, though. I mean, damn if you don't have eyes that look _just_ like my daughter's…"

Storm smirked. "And here I thought your girlfriend was the investigator."

"Come on." Ricki sighed. "You have _her_ eyes. You tell me you intervened on Simmons because he had Alexis. You knew to bring her _here_. Your alias just so happens to be the same as the character who made me enough money to ensure that Alexis' kids are set for life. I may not be an investigator, but I've weaved enough mysteries over the years to know that when people think there's something under the surface, there's something under the surface. So _spill_."

"Fine." The man sank himself into the cushions of Ricki's couch, casting a glance toward Ricki's office as Kate emerged with Sara El-Masri in-tow. He looked up at Ricki again, a soft, knowing smile crossing his aging features.

"Rebecca…I'm your father."


	34. Chapter 34: Family Reunion

_Ricki's loft…_

Ricki was so stunned by the admission at hand that she didn't notice Kate returning from the office with Sara El-Masri in-tow. Ricki stood at the island in the kitchen with her mouth agape, Alexis now by her side with a questioning glance of her own. The redhead wasn't saying anything, but clearly the wheels were turning in her head just as much as her mother's.

"I'm sorry." Ricki cleared her throat. "You wanna run that by me again?"

Kate slipped a hand around Ricki's waist, trying to ignore the prying – if not slightly curious – gaze from the older man standing on the other side of the island. His scar was harsh under the light, and the lines on his face were even more noticeable. "What's going on, babe?"

Ricki sighed and shook her head. "This man claims to be my father."

Kate arched a brow and glanced at the man again. His eyes resembled Alexis' more so than Ricki's, but there was at least a little bit of a resemblance there. "Well…uh, it's nice to meet you, Mister…?"

"Storm."

"Oh, cut the crap!" Ricki shook her head. "You wanna use that name in the field, go right ahead, but if I _am_ your daughter, don't you think you owe me your _real_ name?"

The man sighed, his eyes darting back and forth between his daughter, the woman by her side, and the teenaged redhead. Revealing his real name was probably the last thing he wanted to do – and Ricki half-expected him to deflect, citing operational protocol or some bullshit like that – but Ricki folded her arms and arched a brow. She wasn't about to back down off this.

Kate wasn't the only stubborn one in the room.

"Fine." The man slumped his shoulders with a sigh, shaking his head. "My name is Rodgers."

Kate and Ricki exchanged a look. "Rodgers."

The man who called himself Derrick Storm shrugged, as if the admission was no big thing. He barely noticed Ricki crossing to his side of the island – at least, until her finger jabbed into his shoulder.

"Does that mean my mother's been married all these years?" Ricki cocked her head to the side, narrowing her eyes. "Huh?"

The man straightened his posture. "Where is Martha, anyway?"

Ricki sighed and stroked Alexis' hair with her right hand. "Pumpkin, give Gram a call, tell her to come over. She's been worried sick about you."

As Alexis wandered off to the couch to place the call, Kate and Ricki exchanged another look before the writer glanced down at the other teenage girl. Sara appeared to be healthy and uninjured, but she was clearly as confused about what was going on as everyone else.

"You get in touch with her parents?"

"Sort of." Kate shrugged. "Agent Sorenson's sending a couple people over. They'll pick her up and reunite her with Anwar and Lina."

Normally, Ricki would bristle at the mention of Agent Sorenson, but considering the bombshell that was just dropped on her – and she didn't mean the return of her daughter – she decided her girlfriend's ex was pretty far down the list of priorities at the moment.

Instead, she glared at the man next to her. "Start talking."

"You know I can't do that." The man shook his head. "I can't compromise myself like that."

Without thinking, Ricki smacked the man across the face, feeling one of her nails lightly scratch across his cheek. It wouldn't come close to comparing to that scar along his eye, but it still gave Ricki the tiniest sliver of satisfaction.

"No." She shook her head. "You don't get to do that. You don't get to play procedure and protocol. Not after rescuing my daughter and then dropping that bomb on me. Now spill!"

"When Martha gets here." The man straightened his posture, before turning his attention to the woman standing by Ricki's side as a small grin crept onto his aging features. "Oh, my…is this Nikki Heat? _The_ Nikki Heat?"

Ricki rolled her eyes.

"Please." The man smirked. "My alias is Derrick Storm. Are you really surprised I know of your most recent work?"

"Kate Beckett." She frowned, having had to stop herself from saying _Detective_ beforehand.

That was going to be a hard habit to break.

"Well…" The man shook his head again with another smirk. "I should've known there was something more than just professional curiosity. I mean, the dedication alone should've been a dead giveaway."

"Great. You know about my love life." Ricki shrugged. "You know I have a daughter. You know what I do for a living. Yet I still don't know a damn thing about you!"

As if on-cue, Martha burst into the loft, making a beeline for Alexis. The two redheads clashed together in a frantic, borderline violent hug, Martha lifting Alexis slightly off the ground and swinging her around. Martha let out a relieved wail as she tightened her grip on Alexis, closing her eyes.

"Oh, _Alexis_, darling!" Martha broke the embrace, only to cradle Alexis' face in her thin hands, showering the younger redhead in a series of kisses befitting of a grandmother. Alexis, for her part, just squinted and let her grandmother dote on her. "I'm _so glad_ your okay!" Martha's features hardened, and she looked Alexis in the eye. "You…_are_ okay, right?"

"Mmhmm." Alexis nodded with a grin. "I'm fine, Gram."

The sound of a throat clearing from the kitchen snapped Martha out of her euphoria-induced stupor, and when she looked up, the sight didn't immediately register. Ricki and Kate were standing, hand-in-hand, by the island in the kitchen, and it wasn't until Ricki nodded her head to the side that Martha noticed the man standing next to her.

The man with the white hair and beard, wearing military fatigues, with a nasty scar over his…right…

_Oh, my…_

"Richard?!" Martha bolted upright again, crossing over to the kitchen. "What _on Earth_ are you—"

"Mother?"

When Martha glanced at her daughter again, she saw an expectant, even borderline accusatory, stare. Martha slumped her shoulders with a sigh, closing her eyes and shaking her head. "Alright, kiddo. What do you want to know?"

"Is it true?" Ricki glared at the man. "Is this my father?"

Martha hesitated, sharing a glance with the man before he gave a single nod. "Yes." She sighed. "Richard is your father."

"Richard Alexander Rodgers." The man held out his hand, as if now were the perfect time for manners and pleasantries. Ricki stared at the hand, too confused and dumbfounded and, frankly, angry to play along.

"Mother…now might be a good time for an explanation."

"Darling, I think you're a bit old for the birds and bees."

"Dammit, Mother!" Ricki sighed when she felt Kate's hand squeezing hers, her shoulders slumping as she sat on one of the stools at the island, running her free hand through her hair. "I meant…where has he been all this time? Why not tell me the truth from day one?"

"Because I told her not to." Richard crossed over to slip an arm around Martha's waist, planting a kiss to the top of her head. "The missions I work, the life I lead, I couldn't subject the two of you to that kind of danger."

"So…what?" Ricki threw all decorum out the window. "You just knocked Mother up and bolted?"

"_Rebecca!_"

"We met at an after-party one night." Richard smiled in nostalgia. "_The Phantom of the Opera_ had been playing, and Martha was magnificent in it. We hit it off almost immediately, and since I was convinced my professional life was behind me, I didn't fight it when I fell in love."

"I did." Martha sighed wistfully. "At first. But Richard had a certain…charm about him that made him impossible to resist, even when he was at his most insufferable."

Martha and Richard shared a laugh, and he squeezed her shoulder. "We'd been together about six months when we realized Martha was pregnant." Something dark flashed in Richard's eyes, and his shoulders hunched. "The times being what they were, we got married as soon as we found out."

Ricki shook her head. "You're married?"

Martha waved her hands for dramatic effect, a wistful smile still on her face. "This whole time."

Ricki shook her head and pushed herself off the stool, wandering through the living room straight toward her office. "Thanks for letting me know…"

She didn't even notice when her father called out after her: "It was for your own safety!"

Kate followed after Ricki into the office, shutting the door behind them before crossing to Ricki's desk and slipping her arms around the writer's waist from behind. Ricki leaned against her, and Kate rested her chin on Ricki's shoulder. The writer's hand softly ran along the back of Kate's hands.

"All these years, I thought my father had just…abandoned us." Ricki shrugged and shook her head. "Mother would always tell me she didn't remember much about him, that he was just someone she hooked up with one night."

Kate tightened her grip. "And now?"

"Hey, I'll be the first to admit that having a spy for a dad is pretty cool." Ricki managed a huff of a laugh, even with the tears in her eyes. "When I was ten, I read _Casino Royale_, and that was the book that made me want to become a writer. Hell, Alexis can go to any school she wants, debt-free, all because of Derrick Storm."

Kate leaned in and kissed Ricki's temple. "But…?"

"But knowing they've been married this whole time?" Ricki shook her head. "It just…I think about what could've been. You know? What it would've been like growing up with both parents. Not having to move from apartment to apartment while Mother was between shows. Something more stable, more…I dunno, normal."

"That's only natural, Castle." Kate slipped out of the embrace before crossing in front of Ricki, taking both of the writer's hands into her own. "I grew up with both parents; I didn't lose mom until I was nineteen. But I still…" The former detective sighed. "You always want more time. One more day. One more hour. One more minute."

"I know I should be happier to see him." Ricki sighed. "I mean, he saved my daughter."

"But to just show up after all these years, out of the blue, with no answers…"

"And to find out he wasn't just a one-night stand…"

Kate pulled Ricki in for a soft, loving kiss, her fingers caressing the side of Ricki's face. The writer slipped her arms around Kate's waist, and Ricki let herself get lost in the moment. For a few seconds, she didn't care about her father or any cases or anything else; she was in the arms of her girlfriend, and she was thankful that at the very least, that hadn't changed.

Even if everything else had.

Reluctantly, Ricki broke the kiss, shaking her head and heaving a deep sigh. She let her fingers trail over the side of Kate's neck, paying particular attention to the way the other woman shivered. Ricki gave Kate another kiss, this one a promise of things to come later that night – because she felt like it was something they both needed after the past few days.

"Guess I can't avoid them forever…"

Kate squeezed Ricki's hand as they walked out of the office, and Ricki's heart skipped a beat when she saw Richard and Martha sitting at the island, each of them nursing a glass of wine as Martha's hands waved dramatically as she spun whatever tale that had the man enthralled.

"Mother, please don't tell me you're embarrassing me already."

"Oh, Rebecca…" She waved dismissively and smiled. "Offering Richard a glass of wine and some company is the least I could do after he saved Alexis."

"Martha, you haven't changed a bit." Richard grinned as he finished off the rest of his glass. "Makes me sorry I had to be away for all these years."

"Will you be staying around, dad?"

"I wish I could." Richard sighed. "But…unfortunately, putting down Simmons and rescuing the girls wasn't my mission." He stood, approaching Ricki and Kate, giving the former detective a nod before reaching out to grab Ricki's shoulder. He smiled when she didn't recoil. "Look…I know you have questions. And I'll answer them. Someday. Just…"

"Not now." Ricki nodded and averted her gaze. "I get it."

"You know, you were right earlier." Richard looked at Kate this time. "I have been investigating Bracken. That's why I was tailing Vulcan Simmons, which was how I discovered he had Sara and Alexis."

Kate frowned, straightening her posture and grabbing Ricki's hand. "Why?"

Richard sighed. "That's classified. But…it's huge."

"Murder huge?"

"You have no idea." Richard approached Kate, extending his right hand. "I know we just met, and this is all a huge shock for everyone, but it's clear that you make my daughter happy, so I'd be happy to call you an ally."

Kate shook Richard's hand with a bemused look on her face. "That's…great, but ally for what? I'm not exactly employed anymore."

Richard gave a knowing smile. "You let me handle that."


	35. Chapter 35: Conspiracy

_The Twelfth…_

With only fifteen minutes left before midnight, the Homicide floor was almost deserted. Most detectives had turned in for the night, but a few stragglers were hunched over their desks, phones glued to their ears as they desperately chased anything resembling a lead. Many of those who had gone home had done so under protest, not happy with the fact that in the last forty-eight hours, they'd lost their three best detectives.

No one was happy with Victoria Gates' decision to fire Detective Beckett, and while everyone had wanted to turn in their badge and gun in the aftermath, Detectives Ryan and Esposito had been the only ones brave enough to actually do it.

Gates, the interim captain following the investigation into Roy Montgomery's involvement in a kidnapping-mobsters-for-ransom scheme, glared through her window into the bullpen, content that no one was paying her any mind. She closed the blinds and returned to her desk.

Checking the clock on her desk, Gates grabbed the receiver of her phone, pressed it against her ear, and pushed a series of buttons on the console. She removed her glasses, waiting for the line to connect. She sucked in a deep breath to calm herself when the call connected, clearing her throat.

"This is Captain Gates."

"_I trust everything is in order, Captain?_"

"It is." She twirled a pen in her free hand. "Detective Beckett is no longer employed with the NYPD, effective yesterday."

"_Good. Everything is proceeding according to plan, then._"

"As an added bonus," Gates added with a chuckle, "her two pet detectives are no longer on the force, either."

Silence hung on the line for a few moments.

"_You fired them, too?_"

"No." Gates shook her head and couldn't help but smirk. "They barged into my office like they owned the place, threw their badges at me, and told me to stuff it."

The voice on the other end laughed. "_Predictable little lap dogs._"

"Not to mention…" Gates leaned back in her chair, a smug grin playing across her features. "Vulcan Simmons is screaming about suing the NYPD. You and I both know he won't actually do it, but if it further besmirches Beckett's character…well, I say that's a win-win."

"_Agreed. Because you and I both know she won't let not having a badge stop her._"

"Oh, I'm aware." The smile on Victoria's face disappeared. "I've spent the last fifteen years listening to everyone worship the ground that bitch walks on; that's why I jumped at the chance to take over this precinct when Roy went down."

"_And that's why you were the first person I asked, Vicky. If this is going to work, we need Beckett out of the way. And while we're at it, we need to make sure that writer friend of hers doesn't go poking around where she doesn't belong._"

"You let me take care of Ms. Castle." The dark smile returned. "Shouldn't be too hard."

"_That's just what I wanted to hear, Captain. Keep up the good work, and there might be a judicial opening in your future._"

"Thank you, Senator Bracken. I appreciate that."

* * *

_Ricki's loft…_

The clock read 4:16 a.m., and neither Kate nor Ricki could sleep. Ricki laid on her back, staring at the ceiling, her girlfriend curled up against her, Kate's head resting on her chest. They were both naked, and their bodies were still coated in a sheen of sweat – mostly because they both figured that since they couldn't sleep, they could do other things.

Kate was hoping this latest round would tire them out to the point where sleep would overtake them no matter what, but there they laid together, eyes wide open. It was disconcerting.

Then again, what about the past few days _hadn't_ been?

"What's on your mind, Castle?"

"You mean aside from the fact that my daughter was kidnapped, I just met my father, and my girlfriend is now unemployed?" Ricki huffed a nervous laugh, her fingers lightly trailing over Kate's shoulder.

"Yeah, it has been quite a few days, hasn't it?"

"And then to find out Ryan and Espo up and quit?" Ricki shook her head, but she couldn't keep the bemused smirk off her face. "Not gonna lie, I kinda wish I could've seen Gates' face when that happened."

"Like smacking a beehive with a baseball bat." Kate leaned in and placed a series of small kisses along Ricki's collarbone, smiling against her girlfriend's skin when the writer arched her back slightly with a hiss. With a smile, Kate leaned up and gave Ricki a soft, almost teasing kiss, her fingers trailing along the writer's dark locks.

Kate broke the kiss far sooner than Ricki wanted, and the writer pouted once their lips parted. But once she saw the look in Kate's eyes – which were striking, even in their dark bedroom in the dead of night, Ricki lifted her head. "Hey…"

"I'm sorry, Castle."

"What for?"

"My baggage." Kate's fingers drummed against Ricki's chest. "Seems like ever since we met, we're always dealing with something from my past, and…" Kate shook her head, burying her face in the crook of Ricki's neck. "God, Castle, if something had happened to Alexis…"

"Hey…" Ricki slipped her arms around Kate's shoulders, pulling her in closer with a tight squeeze, kissing her temple. "None of this is your fault, okay?"

"But…"

"But nothing, Beckett." Ricki sat up slightly, the covers draped over her thigh as she pulled Kate in for another tight embrace, before pulling back just enough to look into her eyes and trail her fingers along her jawline. "I don't care what Mother said. I don't care what Captain Square Jaw said." Kate huffed a laugh, and Ricki smiled. "I have never once blamed you for any of this, because it's not your fault."

Kate glanced down at Ricki's hand. "It feels like it is."

Leaning in, Ricki placed her face in the middle of Kate's chest, closing her eyes and planting such a soft, loving kiss to the scar between Kate's breasts that the former detective sighed and blinked back tears, overwhelmed by the reverence contained in such a simple gesture. She thanked Ricki with a loving, deep kiss of her own, a tear spilling down her cheek.

"Kate…" Ricki swallowed, kissing her girlfriend's chin. "It's not your fault you got shot. It's not your fault _I_ got shot. It's not your fault Alexis got kidnapped, and it's damn sure not your fault that your mom was killed. You don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders."

Kate leaned into her girlfriend with an exhausted sigh, her fingers trailing over the writer's back, tracing a line along her spine. She smiled sadly and shook her head before meeting Ricki's gaze again, her eyes filled with wonder.

"And what about you, Ricki?" Kate cocked her head to the side.

Ricki shrugged. "Okay, my world's been kinda torn upside down a little. I'm not gonna lie, finding out who my father is, knowing that he and Mother were together all these years and I was never a part of it…that stings. And…I think I'm still in shock, more than anything."

Kate stroked the hair out of Ricki's face. "You're a lot stronger than you get credit for."

"No, I'm really not." Ricki gave a sheepish smile. "I crack jokes. I take people I don't like, turn them into book characters, and embarrass the hell out of them. Remember the crossdressing taxidermist in _Flowers For Your Grave_?"

Kate frowned. "The one who was ripped apart by rabid hyenas?"

Ricki nodded. "That was the guy Kyra started seeing after we broke up. I didn't even bother changing his name."

Kate visibly blanched. "Remind me never to break your heart, then…lest you turn Nikki Heat into some loser drug addict."

"Never." Ricki kisses Kate full on the lips, her arms tightening around her lover. "Look, point is…Alexis is okay. You're here with me. Everything else?" The writer shrugged. "I'm not gonna sit here and say it doesn't suck, but…I think it'll all work out."

"When did you become such an optimist?"

Ricki shrugged with a smile. "When you fell in love with me."

Kate smiled and leaned down to kiss Ricki again, this time a deep, longing, frantic clashing of lips and tongues and teeth. Ricki laid back onto the mattress as Kate straddled her hips, the writer's hands roaming up and down Kate's back until they found station on the former detective's backside, giving it a firm squeeze.

Before Kate knew what hit her, though, Ricki turned the tables, flipping them over so Kate was on her back before Ricki's mouth slid down the side of her neck, over her collarbone, and again paying loving attention to her scar. Ricki's hands cradled and squeezed Kate's breasts, Ricki's thumbs brushing over her nipples.

Kate bit her lip, even as her hips found a rhythm against Ricki's thigh. She wanted so desperately to call out her lover's name, but she couldn't trust herself to keep it at a decent volume. Instead, she tugged on Ricki's hair and found a steadier rhythm with her hips, letting her eyes flutter shut as the writer's mouth continued working south.

By the time Ricki's mouth found the heated core between Kate's legs, she forgot all about the worries of the day.

* * *

_The Old Haunt…_

"Maaaan…" Kevin Ryan shook his head, before resting his elbows on the surface of the bar and pressing his forehead against his forearms. "Jenny is gonna _kill_ me!"

Javier Esposito smirked and shook his head, polishing off his beer before sliding the empty bottle to his right, hearing it clank against the cluster of empty bottles. There were eight bottles in total to Esposito's right.

"See, bro?" He smirked again. "S'why I'm still single…"

"And here I thought it was your complete lack of charm." Ryan hiccupped and grimaced as the bartender strode past and left him another bottle. He took the first swig before blanching and pushing the bottle away. "What'm I gon' do, Javi? I can—I can't go home and tell Jenny I quit my job."

"Why not?" Esposito shook his head, grabbing the beer Ryan pushed aside and finishing it off. "That's what you did."

"What _we_ did."

Esposito scoffed a little too loudly – drawing curious stares from a couple in the booth behind them. "Details, details." He waved his hand at his partner – well, _former_ partner – scrunching his brow. "Don't know 'bout you, bro, but…I got options."

Ryan arched a disbelieving brow. "Options."

"Yeah!" Esposito swayed slightly on his barstool, grabbing the bottle that was originally meant for Ryan and twirling it between his hands. "I can—I got that whole military thing goin' for me. I can do…oh, private security, I can find work at 'nother precinct." His eyes lit up, and Esposito flexed his arms. "Male dancer…"

"Yeah, great." Ryan sat up a bit, swallowing thickly with a frown. "_You_ have options. What 'bout me? All I've ever been's a cop."

"You'll figure it out, bro." Esposito slapped Ryan's back, but a little too harder than he intended, and Esposito cringed when Ryan yelped in pain and sat up a bit more upright.

"What about Beckett?"

Esposito blanched. "What d'you mean, 'what about Beckett'?" He scoffed and shook his head, purposefully avoiding Ryan's gaze. "She's got…she's got that rich hottie of a writer now." Esposito's face contorted into a snarl, and Ryan arched a brow.

"You _still_ got a problem with Castle, Javi?"

"Damn wannabe cop's got my girl, bro." Esposito swayed on his stool again. "Least she could do is hook us up with floor seats for the Knicks."

Ryan leaned in, pausing to swallow again. "Two things…one, Beckett's not your girl. Never…never has been. Two…" He arched his brow again. "Have you _seen _the Knicks this season? Couldn't pay me to watch that in-person."

"Please." Esposito shook his head. "Beckett just…she just needs a taste of ol' Espo."

"Okay, you…" Ryan pulled himself off his stool, grabbing the barstool when he lost his footing. "You are officially cut off, Javi. And I advise you to shut your yap, before I have to defend Beckett's honor."

"What?" Esposito frowned. "You sweet on her, too?"

"No." Ryan tossed a bunch of crumpled-up bills onto the bar before grabbing Esposito by the arm and letting them both stagger toward the exits. They leaned against each other, trying not to run into chairs and tables before spilling out into the night air. "Jus' making sure you don't…you don't cross a line."

"Hey." Esposito snatched his arm out of Ryan's grasp with a scowl. "Least I wouldn't keep digging up her mom's case."

"Alright, you know what?" Ryan swallowed again with a cringe, struggling to even stand still at this point. "M'not having this talk with you. Not now. Go home, Javi. We both need to…need to…" He shook his head and sucked in a deep breath. "Yeah."

Before Esposito could say anything else, Ryan staggered off into the night, disappearing around the corner.


	36. Chapter 36: Unraveling

_Ricki's loft…_

After what was probably the calmest day they'd had in at least two weeks, Kate and Ricki were enjoying some of the best sleep they'd had in a while. Kate was sprawled out over Ricki, her head on the writer's chest, her arm wrapped around Ricki's waist. Her quiet snores broke the silence of Ricki's bedroom, moonlight streaming onto the floor to the left of the bed.

For the moment, Kate wasn't worried about being unemployed; the euphoria over having Alexis home safe and sound practically overrode every other worry Kate and Ricki had at the moment. Sure, there would be time later to worry about Kate finding another job or Ricki dealing with the fallout of finally meeting her father, but for now, they were content to just enjoy the proverbial moment.

The peace was interrupted, though, by an ear-piercing scream from upstairs – a sound so loud, so unexpected, that Ricki bolted upright with a yelp of her own, tossing the covers aside and grabbing the soft navy blue robe that hung over her chair. Her eyes locked with Kate's as she fastened her robe, and Kate fished her robe off the floor before the two women burst from the bedroom.

In no time, the duo crossed from Ricki's office, through the foyer, and they bounded up the staircase, taking two steps at a time. Ricki's heart pounded against her ribcage, another scream filling her ears. This one wasn't as loud as the one that woke them up, but there was an urgency and a panic to it that drove Ricki to burst forth even faster.

Leading with her shoulder, Ricki stumbled into Alexis' room, taking in the sight of her teenage daughter sitting upright, clutching the covers to herself, wide blue eyes darting back and forth. Without a second thought, Ricki lowered herself onto Alexis' bed, wrapping her arms around the redhead and pulling her close as Kate hung back, turning on the light.

Alexis closed her eyes and buried her face in the crook of Ricki's neck, huffing a series of quiet sobs as Ricki tightened her grip.

"Shh…" Ricki stroked Alexis' hair and kissed the top of her head. "I'm here, pumpkin. "It's okay."

Ricki and Kate exchanged a worried look as Kate tentatively lowered herself onto the bed, placing a soft hand on the small of Ricki's back and rubbing it. Ricki gave her daughter another squeeze.

Alexis tightened her grip on her mother, her fingers tangling in Ricki's robe, her grip so tight that her knuckles turned white. The redhead sniffled and looked up at Ricki, her eyes red and puffy, her breathing shallow and ragged.

"Mom…"

"You're safe, Alexis." Ricki brushed an errant strand of hair out of Alexis' face. "You're home now. I'm here, and so is Beckett. They can't get you anymore."

Alexis sniffled, her eyes glancing at Kate before returning to her mother. "You promise?"

Ricki held Alexis' face in her hands, leaning in to place a soft, loving kiss to her daughter's forehead. "Always." She continued stroking her daughter's hair, pausing only to swipe away the occasional tear that trickled down the redhead's cheek. "You think you can get back to sleep?"

"Can you leave the light on?" Alexis cringed as she asked. "I mean, I know I'm a teenager now, but…"

"Hey." Ricki kisses Alexis' forehead again. "It's okay. Whatever you need."

Alexis laid back down and Ricki tucked her in, pausing to brush a strand of hair out of the teenager's forehead again. Ricki leaned down for another forehead kiss, closing her eyes to stem the tide of her own emotions. Alexis didn't need to see her mother so visibly affected by this; that was better left for the privacy of Ricki's bedroom and the comfort of her girlfriend's arms.

"I love you, pumpkin."

"Love you too, mom."

Once Ricki and Kate were back in the hallway, making their way back to the writer's bedroom, Ricki heaved a sigh and shook her head. She felt Kate's hand intertwining with hers as they came down the stairs, their fingers interlocking. By the time they reached the foyer, Kate stopped Ricki with a tug and gave her a soft kiss.

"You okay, Castle?"

Ricki wanted to say yes. She wanted to project confidence, that self-assuredness that was a cornerstone of her personality back when she and Kate first met. But the truth was, she was scared. She had no idea what to do for Alexis now; something told her all the hot chocolate in the world wouldn't make this go away.

"I just…" Ricki sighed. "I wish I could take it all away, you know?"

Kate nodded and squeezed her girlfriend's hand, and they started making the slow trek back to Ricki's bedroom. "I can give Dr. Burke a call, you know, if it keeps up or gets worse."

Once they were back in Ricki's bed, Kate rested her head on the writer's shoulder again, and Ricki kissed the top of her head while giving her shoulder a squeeze. "Thank you." Another kiss to the top of Kate's head. "For everything."

Kate looked up at Ricki, and the two women exchanged a kiss. "The things we do for those we love."

"You ready for tomorrow?"

* * *

_The Twelfth…_

Fortunately for everyone involved, Captain Gates wasn't in the office when Kate and Ricki stopped by to gather Kate's personal effects from her desk. That didn't make it any less awkward, though, when the elevator doors opened and practically everyone who was there gave Kate a standing ovation as she wandered toward her desk.

Kate and Ricki exchanged a confused glance, and Kate's heart tugged a little when she passed by the desks that once belonged to Ryan and Esposito. Their name plates were still on their respective desks, but the chairs were empty.

That felt wrong on so many levels. The fact that they'd quit in support of Kate…she felt a little guilty for that. Kate and Ricki having their lives thrown out of whack was one thing. She didn't want to be responsible for the upheaval for the boys as well.

Especially Ryan. Jenny was probably so pissed at him.

"Looks like you've still got quite the fan club," Ricki whispered into Kate's ear once they reached her desk.

Kate sighed and placed an empty cardboard box on the surface of the desk, shaking her head as she started placing random items into the box. A framed photograph of her father, a little woven stick figure Ricki had never seen before that had been tucked away in a drawer. Other random odds and ends whose story Ricki wanted, but decided this was neither the time nor place to pry.

If nothing else, her relationship had taught Ricki the virtue of tact.

Occasionally.

Two ceramic elephants – one large, one small – were carefully placed into the box, before Kate grabbed a ceramic grouping of elephants, four in total, lined up from largest to smallest. Kate's fingers trailed over the colorful pattern on the back of the largest elephant, a wistful smile on her face.

"My mother loved these," she whispered. "Said they were a family. Just like us."

Lifting the statue from her desk to place it in the box, Kate paused when she thought she heard something rattle. Her eyes locked with Ricki's, who was now sitting in the ragged chair beside the desk. Ricki quirked a brow as Kate shook the statue in her grasp. The rattling was louder this time.

"What the-?"

"It sounds like there's something in there." Even as she said it, Ricki couldn't believe it.

Sitting at what used to be her desk, Kate stared at the elephants clutched in her hands. She gave the statue one more shake, just to make sure the rattle was still there. It was, and her pulse quickened. Kate could feel the dull _thump_ of her heart, even in her temple, and she locked eyes with Ricki again.

"Kate…"

Kate glanced at the ceiling. "Sorry, mom."

She smacked the statue against the edge of the desk, cringing when the ceramic broke off into large chunks. Something fell to the ground, and Kate set what was left of the statue aside to reach down. Her heart skipped a beat when she sat back up, a miniature cassette tape clutched in her fingers.

She glanced wide-eyed at Ricki. "Castle…"

Ricki gasped. _It's been right in front of you for years…_

"Is that…?"

"Only one way to find out." Kate sucked in a deep breath, almost overwhelmed by a combination of adrenaline and dread. "Know where we can find a tape player?"

"I've got one."

* * *

_Ricki's loft…_

"Why am I not surprised you have a mini tape player, Castle?"

Ricki offered a sheepish smile once they were in her office, hoping the levity succeeded in cutting the tension that had been palpable once they discovered the tape hidden in those elephants. The box of Kate's belongings had been left back on the stairwell, and both women were so nervous about what might be on the tape that they were shaking.

"Because my apartment is nothing if not a collection of completely random stuff?" Ricki stood, placing a tape player on her desk. "Come on: you're talking to a girl who has a life-size Boba Fett statue in her bathroom."

"Fair point."

Ricki opened the compartment for the tape before holding out her hand. "You ready, Kate?"

Kate sighed and pulled the tape out of her pocket, shaking her head and handing it over to Ricki. "No, but…let's just do this. Maybe this is nothing. Maybe it's a collection of showtunes my mom liked."

Kate didn't believe that, and neither did Ricki. The writer didn't say anything about it, though, choosing instead to take the tape and place it in the slot. Closing the compartment, Ricki pressed play before joining Kate's side, their hands intertwining.

_Raglan, shut the door_.

Kate flinched at the sound of a door closing, glancing over at Ricki. They both knew who that voice belonged to, and Ricki automatically squeezed Kate's hand.

_You three got a lot of balls coming here._

_Look, we just want to make sure we're all on the same page. You took a lot of money from us, Bracken. We want assurances._

Kate shook her head. "Fuck you, Roy…"

_Hey, be happy I haven't busted the three of you for your little mafia extortion ring!_

_Whoa!_

_Relax…_

_No, no…_

_You want assurances? Here you go…I assure you that as easily as I pinned Bob Armen's murder on Pulgatti, I could just as easily put it on the cops who actually did the deed._

Ricki shook her head. "So Pulgatti _was_ innocent."

"Mom wouldn't have taken his case if he wasn't, Castle."

"And Bracken just admitted to blackmail."

_Pulgatti knows he's been framed. What if someone gets onto this?_

_Then I'll handle them._

_You? How?_

_I know people, Roy. Dangerous people. Anyone who gets too close – like that bitch lawyer Johanna Beckett who's been poking around – I'll have them killed. I've had people killed before…_

Ricki stopped the tape, swallowing back the bile rising in her throat before turning to Kate. Her mouth hung open, the sheen of tears forming in her hazel eyes. Kate held onto Ricki's hand like a vice, and though the writer was in pain from the grip, she said nothing. In fact, Ricki closed what little distance remained between then, using her free hand to caress Kate's cheek.

"Beckett…"

"Castle…" Kate turned to face her girlfriend, shaking her head. "Castle. Bracken…he…"

"I know, Kate." Ricki kissed Kate, her thumb swiping away a tear that fell. She broke the kiss and cupped Kate's cheek, sniffling and shaking her head. "Senator Bracken is a money launderer, an extortionist, and a murderer."

"He hired Coonan." Kate's voice was almost a whisper, and she leaned into Ricki's touch. "He killed my mom because she was doing her job…"

"And we'll bring him down."

"How, Castle?" Kate sniffled and shook her head. "I don't have my badge anymore."

"Then whatever my father's got planned, he better hurry." Ricki sighed.

Kate slipped her arms around Ricki's waist, resting her head on her girlfriend's shoulder. The tears burning in her eyes refused to fall, and her fingers dug into Ricki's back as the writer tightened the embrace even more. Kate shook her head with a sniffle, Bracken's unknowing confession playing in her head on repeat.

A man who was embarking on a run for president – who had somehow managed to dodge scandal when Roy Montgomery first released the file about the mafia extortion ring – was responsible for her mother's death.

That Bracken wasn't the one with the knife was inconsequential; without his order, Johanna Beckett would still be alive. Without his order, Jim Beckett wouldn't have lost five years in a bottle. Without his order, Kate Beckett would've never become a cop.

Without his order, Kate and Ricki wouldn't have scars from sniper's bullets.

"What do you wanna do, Kate?"

Kate looked at her girlfriend with a sad smile, sniffling and shaking her head. "Got a way to contact your father? Because I don't like the idea of anyone other than me slapping the cuffs on Bracken and tossing him into the back of a squad car."

Ricki gave Kate another squeeze. I'll see what I can do."


	37. Chapter 37: Confrontation

**_Author's Note: Sorry for the length of time between posts - I was sick the last few days, and apparently juggling four fics at once isn't the best idea in the world. But...feel free to check out my new fix, Not Just A Cop - and please, review!_**

* * *

_Ricki's loft…_

Even with all of the craziness of the past several days, Ricki had to catch up on her writing. Black Pawn wanted as much of the new Nikki Heat manuscript as Ricki could give them by the end of the week. Something told Ricki that George wanted the manuscript more than anyone else at the publishing company, her second ex-husband seemingly oblivious to everything that had gone on of late.

Not once did George ask if Alexis was okay upon her return. Not that Ricki was surprised; George had always been lukewarm toward her daughter, at best, and if Ricki was being honest with herself, that was a major reason their marriage fell apart.

If Ricki was going to give herself to someone, that someone had to accept Alexis as part of the deal. George hadn't been willing to do that. Fortunately, there were no such issues with Kate.

Kate was spending the afternoon having lunch with her father; Jim had invited Ricki to tag along and she really wanted to, but the manuscript had to come first. After all, as successful as the first two Nikki Heat books had become, Black Pawn was counting dollar signs and eager for the next installment.

Apparently, Nikki Heat and Jamie Rook made quite the pair.

Martha had taken Alexis out for a day of food and shopping, and Ricki knew from experience that meant she wouldn't see Alexis until the next day. Which was fine; she loved how her daughter and mother bonded, and this time it came with the added benefit of giving Ricki time and quiet to write.

Which was why Ricki huffed in frustration when she heard a knock at her door.

She reluctantly rose from her chair, dark hair in a messy bun. Ricki wore an oversized maroon t-shirt that hung slightly off her right shoulder, black sweatpants accentuating the perfect stay-home-all-day-and-write ensemble. Unsure of who could be visiting her, Ricki stared into the peephole on her door, rolling her eyes and yanking open the door.

"Captain Gates."

Ricki didn't even try to keep the venom out of her voice, and the writer took silent pleasure in the fact that her tone made the other woman slightly recoil. But Gates regained her composure, far more quickly than Ricki would've liked. "Ms. Castle."

Ricki rolled her eyes. "Beckett's not here."

"I'm actually here to talk to you." Gates barged past Ricki and into her loft without waiting for an invite – an invite Ricki was not about to give her – and the writer snuck in another eyeroll as she closed the door.

"Then make it quick. I've got a pushy publisher."

"Let me be clear, Ms. Castle." Gates folded her arms over her chest, narrowing her dark eyes. "Whatever arrangement you had with Captain Montgomery that allowed you to serve as a consultant with the NYPD? That's over now. You are officially barred from my precinct."

Ricki burst out laughing, shaking her head. The laugh intensified when she saw confusion and annoyance etch their way onto the captain's features, and Ricki leaned back against the island of her kitchen as the laughter eventually subsided.

"Look, I knew you have a mighty high opinion of yourself," Ricki burst into another laugh, "but to think I would want to stick around the Twelfth with you there and Beckett…not? I never thought you were that stupid, Captain."

"Ms. Castle—"

"You listen to me, Victoria." Ricki closed the distance between the two women, her jaw setting in anger. "Unless you're here to tell me that you're stepping down as captain – and that Detectives Beckett, Ryan, and Esposito are being reinstated – I'm not interested in anything you have to say."

Gates shook her head. "You know, I'm not the bad guy here."

"Funny." Ricki folded her arms over her chest. "As someone who's written a bad guy or two in her day, that's exactly what you're acting like. Hell, for all I know, you're as dirty as Montgomery and you forced Beckett out as part of some grand conspiracy."

Though Gates didn't respond immediately, Ricki could tell by the look on her face that she had struck a chord somewhere. Part of the writer wanted to pursue that, dig just a little bit deeper, get the rest of the story. But the last thing Ricki needed was to wind up in a jail cell, and until Kate found her way back into law enforcement – somehow – there wasn't much any of them could do.

So instead, Ricki went back to the front door, opening it, and giving Gates as acidic a smile as she could muster. Ricki was usually more hospitable than this, but given present company, she wanted nothing more than to throw the captain out on her ass.

"Now, if that's all, _Captain_…get the hell out of my house."

Gates' steps were purposeful as she walked through the threshold, as if she wanted to make sure Ricki heard the clack of her heels against the floor. She stopped at the doorway, glancing over her shoulder and shaking her head. "This isn't over, Ms. Castle."

With an eyeroll, Ricki slammed the door in Gates' face, turning to walk back to her office. "Go fuck yourself."

Ricki was just about to get back to her office when another knock at the door stopped her. Ricki huffed another sigh of frustration and curled her hands into fists. Why did people insist on paying her a visit when she was trying to get some work done? More importantly, why were they paying her a visit while she was trying to knock out a Nikki-Jamie sex scene?

People's timing really did suck.

Reluctantly, the writer crossed back to the foyer, pulling open the door – her look of frustration immediately morphing into curiosity. "Esposito?"

Javier Esposito looked like he had seen better days. He wore at least a week's worth of stubble on his face, his eyes were slightly bloodshot, and if the bags under them were any indication, he hadn't slept in a good long while. His look of confusion matched Ricki's as he tossed a thumb over his shoulder. "What was Gates doing here?"

Ricki shrugged and rolled her eyes. "Little Miss Holier-Than-Thou tried banning me from the precinct. Like I have any more reason to be there."

Shrugging, as if he were content with the explanation, Esposito walked across the threshold when Ricki stepped aside. "Look, can we talk?"

"Yeah, sure." Ricki crossed into the kitchen, pulling open the door to the fridge and grabbing two bottle of water. She sat at the island, tossing one of the bottles Esposito's way before taking a swig from her own. "What's up?"

"Look," Esposito sighed as he caught the bottle. "I know we got off on the wrong foot."

Ricki shrugged with another swig. "Hey, no big. I get it, Javi. Civilian butting in on official police business, there was bound to be some blowback."

"It wasn't just that." Esposito cracked open his bottle and took his first swallow.

Another shrug from Ricki. "I know."

Setting his bottle down, Esposito cocked his head to the side with a frown. "What?"

"I know." Ricki shrugged again. "Look, it was clear early on you had a thing for Beckett. Way I figured, you either had something with her and it went wrong, you tried and got rejected, or you've never had the chance to tell her how you feel."

"The third one." Esposito hunched his shoulders and averted his gaze before straightening his posture again. "Then…knowing about you and your reputation, throw in some protective big brother bullshit…"

"You were worried I'd hurt Beckett." Ricki polished off the rest of her bottle. "So what changed?"

"When she got shot." Esposito shook his head. "It was still so early on with you two, no one would've blamed you if you had bailed. But you didn't. You were there with her, every day. There were days we had to beg you to go home. You were there for her, and you helped us bring down the bastard who did it."

Ricki's mind instantly went back to the tape she and Kate discovered the previous day – and the fact that they were sitting on it, out of some selfish need for Kate to be the one to make the ultimate arrest. Ricki knew it was probably dumb, but it didn't seem right going down any other way. So until they found a way to get Kate back to the precinct…

"Just wish we could've brought down the guy who killed her mom."

"Point is…" Esposito stood. "You proved you were in it for the long haul. She deserves that. Not some square-jawed wannabe fed who bails at the first job offer. Not some doctor who's always traveling the world saving sick kids. You're good for her, Ricki, and Ryan and I appreciate you for it."

Such blunt honesty from Esposito was a bit of a surprise; other than the day at the precinct where he had threatened-not-threatened Ricki, there hadn't been much of this soul-bearing between them. Granted, Ricki had spent much of her short time shadowing Kate focused on _just_ her, so it wasn't like Ricki had bonded much with Ryan and Esposito.

Still, Beckett had obviously trusted the two men, so Ricki felt a sort of affinity for them as well. Even with Esposito's tough-guy act when they first met.

"Thanks, Javi. But I have to ask," Ricki paused and waved her hand in front of her face, "and don't hate me for this, but…why admit this to me?"

Esposito's eyes narrowed, as if he were considering the question for the first time. Ricki fished another couple water bottles from the fridge, sliding one across the island to the former detective. He tore off the cap and took a long sip, probably to buy himself just a little more time before he had to give an answer.

"You ever have to just…get something out, even if it don't make a damn difference?" Esposito shrugged, took another swig. "I've stared down the barrel of a sniper rifle, Castle. I've had guys I served with bleed out in my arms. We keep things from each other. In the service, in life. But in that moment? When they know they're about to die? None of that matters anymore."

Swirling her own swig of water around in her mouth before swallowing, Ricki gave a single nod. "Saying something simply because it needs to be said, no matter the consequences."

"Something like that." Esposito shrugged again. "Look, I know this doesn't change anything. You love her. She loves you. You two are clearly happy together. In the end, seeing the way you make her smile…I can live with that."

Ricki barely suppressed a smirk. "She'd kick your ass if you told her, wouldn't she?"

"All the way to One PP and back." Esposito rose from his stool, capping his half-empty bottle and sliding into one of the pockets of his cargo pants. He crossed over to Ricki, extending his right hand. "You keep making Beckett happy, you're okay in my book."

"Good." Ricki shook Esposito's hand with a sideways grin. "Last thing I want is someone who's done three tours in Iraq coming after me."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

Ricki watched as Esposito headed back toward the front door, frowning a bit as she pushed herself away from the island. "Hey, Javi."

The former detective stopped with his hand on the doorknob. "Yo."

"I know you and Ryan aren't cops anymore, but…" Ricki approached Esposito. "I get a funny vibe from Gates. I don't think she's squeaky clean."

Esposito nodded in understanding, a sly grin slowly itching its way onto his tired, stubbled face. "I hear ya, Castle. I got some contacts over at IA, see if I can call in a favor. Ryan might know a guy or two."

"Thanks, Javi. And…I'm sorry you two had to lose your jobs because of this."

"Please." Esposito pulled the door open and stepped through the threshold. "One thing the three of us got in common, Castle? We'd do anything for Beckett."

The door closed, leaving Ricki to her own thoughts again. She immediately went right back for her office, the manuscript for _Heat Rises_ beckoning to her. On second thought, that sex scene would have to wait. Esposito's words had struck a chord with the writer, and she felt the need to add a scene. It wasn't in the outline, but this wouldn't be the first time Ricki improvised a part of her story.

It probably wouldn't be the last, either.

As soon as Ricki sank herself back into her chair, her phone rang. Rolling her eyes in exasperation – as often as she was being interrupted, one would think she and Kate were trying to have some private time – Ricki frowned when she didn't recognize the number on the display. She didn't normally answer in circumstances like this, but something told her she better do that this time.

"Hello?"

"_Ricki._"

Ricki frowned, her eyes trained on the blinking cursor. "…Dad?"

The gruff voice smirked on the other end. "_I hear you've been trying to get a hold of me._"

"Yeah." Ricki sat up. "Yeah, I have been. Uh…listen, we've got evidence on Bracken."

"_Evidence._"

"Yeah. That ties him to Johanna Beckett's murder."

"_Well, I'd say that's a pretty big damn deal. Where is it?_"

"Somewhere safe." Ricki stood and began pacing back and forth in her office, the scene she was planning to write seconds ago now long forgotten. "Thing is, I think Beckett should be the one to bring him down, but—"

"_The fact that she's no longer a badge is an issue._"

"Yeah."

"_Give me forty eight hours, kid. I'll take care of it._"


	38. Chapter 38: Snowball

**_Author's Note: Once again, if you haven't already, check out my new fic, Not Just A Cop - chapter five was just posted yesterday. Thanks for sticking with me through all the delays and everything, and I love hearing back from y'all. Hope you're enjoying this!_**

* * *

_One PP…_

Richard Rodgers preferred working in the shadows, pulling the proverbial strings from behind the scenes so that once the dominoes started to fall, no one would be any the wiser about his presence. It was safer for him that way, allowed him to survive decades in a line of work that chewed up many a young agent after mere months.

A laundry list of aliases also helped, though Rodgers had to admit that he sometimes had trouble keeping track of them all. It was one of the reasons he loved using the Derrick Storm alias so much; it was easy to remember. Not to mention the swell of pride he felt for his millionaire daughter every time he used said alias.

If Rodgers was being honest with himself, he probably owed her royalties.

Ignoring the protestations of just about everyone on the top floor of One Police Plaza, Rodgers smirked to himself as he pushed his way into Commissioner Daley's office. After studying the commissioner from the shadows for two days, he knew Daley would be in his office – no matter what his secretary tried to say otherwise.

Daley immediately rose from his seat, yellow tie swaying as his wrinkled face contorted in a mixture of confusion and anger. "Just what the hell do you—"

"Pipe down, Commissioner," Rodgers couldn't help but smirk. "I've got some intel you might find interesting."

"And just who the hell are you?"

Thankfully, Rodgers had already chosen his alibi for this particular mission. "Jackson Hunt."

Daley scoffed and shook his head. "Sounds made up."

"Course it's made up," Rodgers smirked. "I'm CIA, covert ops. Do you really think I'd be parading around using my real name?"

"CIA," Daley repeated with a hint of disbelief. "And you're here why…?"

Rodgers pulled a small black USB drive from one of the pockets in his bulletproof vest, slowly approaching the desk and making sure Daley could see the small item in his grasp. "There's an audio recording on this that you need to hear," he explained. "I've been investigating Senator Bracken for a long time now, and I'm afraid his little web of corruption extends to the Twelfth Precinct."

"I know all about the scheme Montgomery was involved in."

"Not Montgomery," Rodgers countered, handing the USB drive to Daley. "Gates."

Clearly suspicious, Daley nevertheless snatched the USB drive from Rodgers before crossing back behind his desk, plugging the device into the side of his computer. Once the device registered, the audio player popped onto the screen and the recording automatically started to play.

_This is Captain Gates._

_I trust everything is in order, Captain?_

Realization washed over Daley's face. "That's Bracken."

Rodgers nodded. "Yep."

_It is. Detective Beckett is no longer employed with the NYPD, effective yesterday._

_Good. Everything is proceeding according to plan, then._

_As an added bonus, her two pet detectives are no longer on the force, either._

_You fired them, too?_

_No. They barged into my office like they owned the place, threw their badges at me, and told me to stuff it._

_Predictable little lap dogs._

_Not to mention…Vulcan Simmons is screaming about suing the NYPD. You and I both know he won't actually do it, but if it further besmirches Beckett's character…well, I say that's a win-win._

_Agreed. Because you and I both know she won't let not having a badge stop her._

_Oh, I'm aware. I've spent the last fifteen years listening to everyone worship the ground that bitch walks on; that's why I jumped at the chance to take over this precinct when Roy went down._

_And that's why you're the first person I asked, Vicky. If this is going to work, we need Beckett out of the way. And while we're at it, we need to make sure that writer friend of hers doesn't go poking around where she doesn't belong._

_You let me take care of Ms. Castle. Shouldn't be too hard._

_That's just what I wanted to hear, Captain. Keep up the good work, and there might be a judicial opening in your future._

_Thank you, Senator Bracken. I appreciate that._

As soon as the recording stopped, Daley shook his head. "Mr. Hunt, what is going on?"

"Senator Bracken has been involved in money laundering and extortion dating back to his days as a district attorney here in New York," Rodgers explained. "He funded his first Congressional campaign with money raised in the mafia ransom scheme. The file Roy Montgomery released several weeks back was the first real evidence we had of Bracken's duplicity."

"But that doesn't explain why he would want one of our best detectives off the force," Daley shook his head again.

"Commissioner, what do you know about Johanna Beckett's murder?"

Daley frowned with a shrug. "Just what was in Detective Raglan's report."

"There's far more than that," Rodgers said. "But let me worry about that. Something tells me you have a bit of a mess on your hands now."

"No kidding." Daley shook his head with a sigh. "Know anyone who can serve as captain of a precinct?"

"No, sir." Rodgers gave a knowing smile. "But I can think of three cops who would probably like their jobs back, once you throw Gates out on her ass."

* * *

_Ricki's loft…_

Kate Beckett was starting to get a little restless. Not that Ricki could blame her; this was the first time since college that Kate had gone for more than a day or two at a time without working. It hadn't bothered her much at first – largely because they were so busy celebrating Alexis' safe return and dealing with the emergence of Ricki's father – but now that things had calmed down, the reality was starting to set in.

Ricki had done as much as she could to put Kate at ease, but she realized there was only but so much she could do – especially since Kate was independent enough that she didn't care for the idea of Ricki "taking care of" her while she looked for work.

Not to mention, George was still on Ricki's ass about the manuscript for _Heat Rises_.

Trouble was, the last few chapters were a chore to write. So much so, that Ricki had to stop what she was doing, lest she get frustrated to the point that she'd be tempted to chuck her laptop across the office. Breaking her computer was the last thing she needed to do. It almost felt as if she had the urge to write something else, to step back from Nikki Heat for a little bit and dive into something else.

Not something new, though. Ricki felt the urge to dive into something familiar, something with which she amassed most of her fortune. For the first time in a long time, she actually _wanted_ to write about the ruggedly handsome CIA agent who had almost singlehandedly made Ricki enough money to send Alexis to whichever school she wanted, debt-free.

Ricki grabbed her empty coffee mug and walked over into her kitchen – stopping when she saw Kate curled up on the couch, a promotional copy of _Naked Heat_ Ricki had managed to snag for her in her lap.

Ricki couldn't keep the grin off her face if she tried. "I'll never get tired of seeing that."

Kate glanced up from the book. "Seeing what, Castle?"

"My girlfriend reading my books," Ricki answered, leaning down to kiss the top of Kate's head. "I don't care if I never make the _New York Times_ list again. So long as you're reading my books, I'm happy."

"Well, just keep writing Nikki Heat and I'll keep reading."

Now in the kitchen, Ricki was pouring two mugs of coffee before crossing back over to the living room and handing a mug to Kate. "And what if I decided to start writing Derrick Storm again?"

Kate sat up with a frown of confusion. "Didn't you kill him?"

Ricki shrugged. "Covert CIA. I could just say the whole thing was a massive cover-up."

"But I thought you were bored with Derrick Storm," Kate argued, cocking her head to the side.

"I was." Ricki sighed and took a sip from her mug. "But ever since I met Dad…"

"Got the spy bug again." Kate couldn't hide her own smile, setting her book aside. "Well, I kinda wanted to kick you when you killed him off, so…"

"Well, to be fair," Ricki teased, "you also kinda hated me."

"No, I didn't!" Kate protested with a large, toothy smile, teasingly pushing Ricki in the shoulder. "Okay…yeah, I kinda did, but you were a bit of an ass at first."

"Hm." Ricki leaned in for a quick kiss, a smug grin on her face. "I was also irresistible. I saw the way you looked at me in that interrogation room. Even then, you wanted me."

Kate's mouth hung open in fake outrage and shock before she shook her head and grinned anew. "Really."

"Mmhmm." Ricki set her mug aside, slipping am arm around Kate's waist. "Admit it, Beckett, you wanted me from day one."

Kate smirked into a kiss, shaking her head. "You're lucky you're hot."

* * *

_The Twelfth…_

No sooner did the elevator doors open, and Commissioner Daley strode out into the bullpen, all eyes were on him. Uniformed officers and plain-clothed detectives alike stopped what they were doing and stared, exchanging nervous glances as Daley pushed his way into Victoria Gates' office and slammed the door shut.

The sound of the door slamming shut broke Gates' concentration, and her look of annoyance disappeared as soon as her head jerked up and she saw her boss standing in front of her, a small USB drive in his hand.

"Commissioner…"

"Victoria." There was an edge to Daley's voice that Gates couldn't quite place, and her gaze narrowed in response. "There something you wanna tell me?"

Before Victoria had a chance to respond, Daley reached over to plug the USB drive into the side of her monitor, placing his hands in his pockets and studying her expression once the audio recording began to play.

The captain simply removed the black-rim glasses from her face with a sigh.

"Captain Gates."

Gates finally lifted her gaze to meet Daley's, the incriminating phone call still playing. "Where did you get this?"

"A concerned citizen." Daley shook his head. "You realize what all this means."

"And you realize that I have friends in high places and won't go down without a fight."

Reaching over to lock the door to Gates' office, and taking an extra second or two to close t he blinds to hide them from the view of the rest of the bullpen, Commissioner Daley straightened his tie and shook off his black blazer with a shake of his head.

"Victoria," he began, "you're not as influential as you think. In fact, if I had to hazard a guess, I'd say you're pretty expendable." A knowing smile crept onto Daley's face when the bravado in Gates' eyes started to falter. "You played your part. A little too well."

"Not that it matters." Gates shrugged. "The wheels are already in motion."

"Then it's a good thing we've invented brakes." Daley produced a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket, crossing to the back of Gates' desk before placing her hands behind her back and slapping the cuffs on her wrists. "Victoria Gates, you are under arrest for conspiracy – and needless to say, you are no longer in charge of this precinct."

He lifted Gates from her seat, taking pleasure in the eye roll she gave as he led her toward the door. Daley paused to unlock the door to her office, his hand on her shoulder before he regarded her once more.

"Oh, and Victoria?" Daley's eyes went dark. "You better hope we can't connect you to Johanna Beckett's murder. Because then I'll be the least of your worries."


	39. Chapter 39: A Return

**_Author's Note: Shorter than most chapters, but there's a good bit going on here. As always, reviews are appreciated!_**

* * *

_Ricki's loft…_

As anxious as Kate Beckett was to get back to working again – whether that meant she was a cop or something else entirely – she had to admit there was something to be said for not having to be awake at a certain hour. She actually found herself sleeping in as often as she could, relishing in the lazy pleasure of it all.

Yet on mornings in which Martha and Alexis weren't around – like this one – she found herself having other, less lazy thoughts. Kate threw the covers off of herself with a sly grin, rolling off of her side and hoisting a leg over her still-asleep lover, straddling Ricki's lap. Given how springy the writer's mattress was, the motion jostled Ricki enough that her eyes eventually blinked open.

Kate, strands of auburn hair framing her face, sat atop her girlfriend with a cheeky grin, the tip of her tongue trapped between her teeth. She watched Ricki rub the sleep out of her eyes, the movement of her arms lowering the covers just enough to give Kate a glimpse of Ricki's breasts encased in a satin black bra – Kate's favorite.

Ricki blinked several times before the sight finally registered, a sly grin creeping onto her face. Her dark hair was done up in a messy bun. "Mmm, morning, Beckett."

Kate's smile widened, her hips swaying back and forth as her fingers hooked under the straps of Ricki's bra. "Morning, Castle."

Without warning, Ricki wrapped her arms around Kate and pulled her girlfriend down for a frantic, possessive, hungry kiss. Only two things could snap Ricki out of her sleep-induced fog this quickly: coffee and Kate Beckett.

Kate moaned into Ricki's mouth as their tongues collided, her hips rocking back and forth. Ricki's hands tugged at the hem of the red t-shirt Kate had worn to sleep, and Kate broke the kiss just long enough to toss the garment over her head and to the floor. Wonder and amazement filled Ricki's eyes yet again, her hands roaming up Kate's sides before she brushed her fingers over the scar in the valley between Kate's breasts.

They'd been together for months now, and Ricki always took a few moments to pay reverence to the scar. Every single time.

When Ricki sat up to place a series of soft, reverent kisses along Kate's collarbone, Kate reached around to unhook Ricki's bra, sliding the garment off of the writer's shoulders before tossing it onto the floor. Kate pushed Ricki back onto the mattress with a toothy smile, her eyes dark under the sunlight pouring in through the window.

"Just lay back and enjoy," she whispered before lowering her mouth onto the swell of Ricki's right breast. Ricki gasped, her breath hitching in her throat as her back arched off the bed. She felt her nipple tightening even more, her hands finding station on the small of Kate's back.

The writer shivered and cooed as Kate's lips worked down between her breasts, over her stomach, and lower still, the comforter falling to the floor once Kate found herself positioned between Ricki's spread legs, inches from her destination.

Kate paused ever so briefly to admire the sight before her, taking silent pride in the effect she had on her favorite author, before the shrill ring of her phone on the night table startled both women with a yelp.

Kate buried her face in the mattress with a groan of frustration as Ricki sat up. "You don't have to answer that," the writer protested. "That's the beauty of being unemployed."

But Kate grabbed her phone off the table, frowning in confusion when she saw the display. "It's One PP," she told Ricki with a furrowed brow before swiping her thumb over the screen and pressing the device to her ear. "Beckett."

"_Kate Beckett! Commissioner Daley, how are you?_"

Even while on the phone with her former boss, Kate couldn't help but bite her lip and stare at her girlfriend – who still hadn't yet closed her legs. Judging by the look on Ricki's face, she was doing that on purpose.

"More relaxed than I've been in years, sir."

"_I hope that doesn't mean you'd turn down a job offer._"

Kate's brow scrunched in confusion. "Sir?"

"_Are you aware that we arrested Victoria Gates yesterday on charges of conspiracy?_"

Sitting up a little straighter, Kate enacted speakerphone, not once tearing her gaze from Ricki. "I'm sorry, you did _what_?"

"_We received evidence the other day that Gates was involved in a conspiracy to undermine the efficiency of the Twelfth Precinct and have you removed from the force._"

Ignoring the whispered "I knew it!" from Ricki, Kate ran her free hand through her hair. "I'm…not sure I understand, sir."

"_I won't bore you with the details over the phone. The point, Beckett, is…would you be interested in having your old job back?_"

Kate's mouth hung open as a wide smile crept over Ricki's face. "You…you mean it?"

"_Homicide. Twelfth Precinct._"

Kate was pacing back and forth at this point, her bare toes curling into the soft carpeting. Ricki's smile was infectious, and Kate couldn't help but smile herself, even with the reservations she still had. "Who's gonna be the captain?"

"_McNulty. I should've given him the post in the first place._"

"Good," Kate agreed with a nod, biting her lip. "Before I accept, I have two conditions."

"_Shoot._"

"I want Kevin Ryan and Javier Esposito reinstated as well, with back pay."

"_I'm calling them as soon as I get off the line with you._"

"Good." Kate locked eyes with her girlfriend. "Second condition: Castle is allowed to return to the precinct as a consultant."

"_Beckett…_"

"Either my partner comes back with me or there's no deal."

The silence on the other end worried Kate – but not nearly as much as it worried Ricki, judging by the look on her face – but once Daley sighed, a knowing smile crept onto Kate's face.

"_Alright, the writer can come back too._"

"Thank you, sir." Kate tried to keep her voice even-keel, even as she felt the surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins. Ricki grabbed her free hand and squeezed it, smiling wider than Kate had seen in several weeks.

"_You start on Monday. Welcome back…Detective._"

As soon as Kate put the phone back on the table, Ricki tackled her in a giant bear hug – well, as big a hug as someone Ricki's size could muster. Kate twirled so their combined momentum carried the two women back onto the mattress, the two of them clad in just their underwear as Ricki's lips attacked Kate's.

Once the kiss broke – mostly because Ricki and Kate both needed to breathe – Ricki smirked and trailed the back of her finger along Kate's shoulder. "So," she mused, "Detective Beckett."

"Mm." Kate kissed Ricki again. "I like the way that sounds when you say it."

Grabbing Kate's hips, Ricki flipped them over so that Kate was on her back, Ricki stole another quick kiss before her hand slipped down to grab the waistband of Kate's underwear and slip it off. Kate's eyes sparkled as the garment fell to the floor, and she reached up to cradle Ricki's breasts in her palms.

"And what if I called you Nikki Heat?"

One of Kate's hands reached up to snake through Ricki's hair. "Then I'd say get your face between my legs."

* * *

_The next day…_

The cup of coffee on William Bracken's desk had gone cold. After reading that morning's _New York Times_, the influential Senator and presidential hopeful had lost his appetite for caffeine – not to mention the box of donuts a staffer had left in the break room. Bracken sat in his swivel leather chair, overlooking his view of Manhattan with a scowl etched into his features.

His fingers instinctively went to the scar on his left cheek, the paper mocking him on the floor. The day's news hadn't been kind to him – news of Victoria Gates' arrest had made the front page, and another article below the fold detailed the reinstatement of Detective Beckett.

This part of the plan had backfired.

But Senator Bracken was nothing if not thorough. He had planned for such an occurrence, as unlikely as he thought it was. One thing working in his favor was the fact that the article hadn't yet connected him to the scandal engulfing the woman once known – affectionately and otherwise – as "Iron Gates."

Good to know the money he was paying the editor was going to good use.

If Bracken were being honest with himself, the news of Beckett's reinstatement was far worse news. Even if the media wouldn't connect him to Gates, she would – if for no other reason than the fact that she wouldn't give up until she did.

Technically speaking, he had negated their arrangement, and if she did in fact have that evidence of which she warned – there were no words to describe just how screwed Bracken was.

Good thing he had a contingency plan for that, too.

Bracken turned back to his desk when there was a knock at his door, and the Senator turned just in time to see Dick Coonan burst into his office, an angered look on his pudgy face and that morning's paper crumpled in his grasp.

"You see this shit?" Coonan spat as he tossed the paper onto Bracken's desk.

"Yes." Bracken kept as even a tone as he could. "Why do you think I called for a meet?"

Coonan sucked in a deep breath, his chest and shoulders expanding. He acted like he was out of breath, though whether that was because of physical exertion or the gravity of the situation, Bracken couldn't say. "So who's my target? Please say it's Beckett…"

"No." Bracken stood and approached Coonan, placing a hand on the shorter man's shoulder. "I will take care of Detective Beckett. I just need you to handle Gates."

Coonan's shoulders slumped in obvious disappointment. Ever since the police gunned down Cole Maddox, Coonan had been chomping at the proverbial bit to get a chance at succeeding where Maddox had failed. Coonan talked often of killing Kate Beckett, even after she was fired from the NYPD, and even cracked that she'd kill the author as a bonus.

But, tempting as that was, Bracken didn't need a body count. As it was, too many of the dots were connecting back to him.

"I'll wire the money in ten minutes," Bracken explained, patting Coonan's shoulder. "Just call me when the job's done."

Still disappointed, Coonan nodded before leaving Bracken's office.

The Senator lowered himself back in his chair with a heavy sigh, loosening the tie around his neck. He squinted at the sunlight peering in over the Manhattan skyline, taking a moment of peace to look over the city he called home. Once the moment was over, Bracken reached into a drawer at his desk, pulling out a gray flip phone.

With the press of a few buttons, Bracken cupped the phone to his ear.

"Lockwood," he spoke once the call connected. "Operation Dragon's Breath. It's time."


	40. Chapter 40: Dragon's Breath

_Two days later…_

Much to Kate Beckett's pleasure, her return was met with little fanfare. Obviously, everyone else at the Twelfth was glad to have her back – especially Ryan and Esposito, both of whom thanked her for getting their jobs back with quick hugs – but the business of the day precluded any further sentimentality.

Not that there was much sentimentality to be had in a building full of cops.

No sooner did Kate get herself settled at her desk, placing her elephant family statue back on its familiar perch, Ricki took her place in the old chair to the side. Ricki glanced under the tallest elephant on the statue, grinning through a sip of her coffee.

"Alexis did good piecing it back together," the writer said with pride. "Can barely see the glue."

Glad to have things back to normal – her mother's heirloom on her desk, her name on the plaque, her partner by her side – Kate lowered herself into her swivel chair, her smile returning when she even found the chair at the right height.

Seeing the look on her girlfriend's face, Ricki couldn't help but smile. "Glad to be back?"

"I am." Kate nodded and sipped at her coffee. "I'll be even more glad when we release that tape."

"When?"

"Not for a while," Kate admitted, her eyes dancing over the bullpen. She locked eyes with LT, smiled, and raised her coffee cup at him. "I wanna get back into a routine here first. Way I figure, I've already waited fifteen years, what's a few more weeks?"

A knowing smile crept onto Ricki's face. "Lull Bracken into thinking he's safe. He sees you're back, he's expecting a full-on assault." The writer sipped at her coffee again. "I like it."

Three desks over, Detective Ryan squinted at his monitor, shaking his head as his eyes danced over the seemingly indecipherable sequence of letters and numbers being spit back out at him. Glancing up to make sure Kate's attention wasn't on him – and glad to see her and Ricki heading to the break room, Ryan swiveled around to tap his partner on the shoulder.

"Hey, Javi?"

Looking up from his paperwork, Esposito frowned at Ryan. "What, bro?"

Ryan pointed at the monitor over his shoulder. "We got another hit."

* * *

_Four days later…_

Dick Coonan was thankful for the economic downturn that plagued the country six years ago – mostly because enough businesses throughout the city had shuttered that it allowed him a multitude of hideout spots while he planned out his latest job. This job would be more difficult that most: taking out a disgraced police captain who was likely surrounded by protective detail and a plethora of security in incarceration.

Given the complex nature of this job, Coonan was thankful to find an abandoned car repair garage on the Upper East Side. Coonan had enough privacy to plan out his job, yet he still had all the access to all of the resources he needed.

This would not be an easy job. If Coonan were being honest, he would've admitted this were a job better suited for someone like Maddox. Since Maddox was no longer alive, then Coonan wondered why Senator Bracken didn't hand this job over to Lockwood. Actually, he knew why; Lockwood was handed the personal jobs, and Detective Beckett was personal.

Bracken hadn't said as much, but something told Coonan the cop had something to do with that scar on his cheek. Coonan had seen the look on Bracken's face whenever the name Beckett was uttered, and that meant Hal Lockwood would get the honors – if there was an instance where Bracken himself couldn't do the job.

And with Bracken gearing up for a run at the White House…

Coonan studied the layout of the prison where Victoria Gates was being held until the lines started blending together in front of his eyes. A black duffel bag on the floor held a semi-automatic rifle, an 8-inch machete with a serrated blade, high-tension rope, and a bottle of undetectable poison.

Given Gates' position, Coonan had to be prepared to take her out in any number of ways. He also had to make sure her death couldn't be traced back to Bracken – no small task, given her arrest was because of her ties to Bracken.

At that moment, the realization hit Coonan that everyone associated with Bracken was either dead, in police custody, or disgraced to the point where their career was over. That was no coincidence, either, nor was the fact that so much of this was happening so quickly. If William Bracken was to run for president, he needed his house to be in order.

Something told Coonan his number would come up sooner or later. He was strangely okay with that.

The garage bay door rolled open with an echo, startling Coonan from his staring match with the prison layout map. He twirled around to see who was disrupting his privacy, silently cursing the fact that he had been found. He was normally better at keeping below the radar that this. Coonan's heart skipped a beat when he saw two men walk into the abandoned garage, setting his jaw when he recognized the pair.

Those damn cops who questioned him about Rathbourne months ago.

"Dick Coonan," the Hispanic man called out with a self-satisfied smile, his voice echoing in the barren, dark surroundings. "We hear you've been a busy man these last few days."

Folding his arms over his chest, Coonan's eyes resting on the gold shield hanging from a chain around the Hispanic cop's neck. "Apparently, I'm not the only one. I suppose congratulations are in order, the two of you getting your jobs back."

"Someone wired you a hundred grand four days ago," the Irish looking cop with the Irish-sounding name that Coonan couldn't quite remember announced. "We don't really care where the money came from."

"But we _do_ care about what you did to earn that money," his partner added.

Detective Ryan's eyes fluttered downward, peering at the black duffel bag that was partially open. "Or what you're about to do."

"Either of you have a warrant?" Coonan's eyebrows arched. "Hate to see New York's finest wasting their time."

"We got all the time in the world," Detective Esposito said with a shrug. "Rathbourne."

The two detectives exchanged a knowing glance, silently impressed that Ricki Castle's theory all those months ago had been on the money. For someone who didn't have a lick of law enforcement training, she was surprisingly adept…at times.

"Nice trick disappearing on us after we paid you all that money," Ryan mused.

"That why you're here?" Coonan smirked. "Cashing in an IOU?"

"Nah, see, I'm used to dealing with deadbeats," Esposito said with a shrug. "My boy Ryan here talked me into buying him lunch one day a few years back after he left his wallet at home. I'm still waitin' for him to pick up a tab for me."

Ignoring his partner's jab, Ryan approached Coonan. "We know you're on a job."

Esposito stood by his partner's side. "And we want you to know we're watching."

Coonan's brows arched again, and he couldn't hide the smirk that spilled from his throat. "Well, that's cute. But…unless you're the type that enjoys broadcast snow, I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed."

Esposito smirked before he and Ryan turned to leave the building, leaving Coonan back to his work, confident that at the very least, their message had been delivered. The pair walked in silence until they returned to the red Charger awaiting them – at which point, Ryan swung the passenger door open and spoke up.

"Hey, shouldn't we bring Beckett in on this?"

Esposito shook his head and cranked the engine. "Throw her knee-deep back in her mother's case just days after she gets her badge back? Nah…we keep this between us. No going to Beckett unless we absolutely _have_ to."

* * *

_The next morning…_

When the call came in, Detectives Ryan and Esposito exchanged a look; it was the same address they had just visited the day before when they approached Dick Coonan. With them both confused beyond measure, it was a quiet ride to the abandoned car repair shot, before the Charger came to a stop and the cops flashed their newly-acquired badges for the uniform standing guard.

Once Ryan and Esposito ducked under the crime scene tape, and stepped into the garage, they noticed Lanie Parish standing over a body, navy blue NYPD jacket over her baby blue scrubs, matching gloves over her hands. The ME jotted down a few notes on her clipboard before regarding the two detectives.

"I dunno who this guy pissed off," she explained, "but someone fucked him up."

Esposito studied the body, bullet holes in the knees and elbows – along with two shots in the center of the victim's chest. Pools of blood decorated the otherwise drab floor, but what really caught Esposito's attention was the man's face. He nudged Ryan in the shoulder, pointing.

Ryan shook his head. "Son of a…"

Lanie looked up from her clipboard. "What?"

Before either of the detectives could answer, the sound of hurried heels on the floor caught their attention. Kate Beckett jogged to the crime scene with a huff, slapping on her own pair of latex gloves and blowing a strand of hair out of her face. Behind her, Ricki Castle followed with her hair in a ponytail, two cups of coffee in her hands.

"Sorry I'm late, guys," she offered, glancing over her shoulder. "Overslept."

Ricki tried to keep the smirk off her face, but the quirked brows from Ryan and Esposito made discretion almost impossible. She kept it to a minimum, though, handing Kate her coffee once the detective secured her gloves.

"As I was saying…" Lanie gave her best friend a knowing glance and a sideways smile before turning her attention back to the bloodied corpse. "Whoever did this really knew what to do. Six slugs put this guy down. The two in the chest were fatal, but before that, they put one in each knee and each elbow."

"Some bastardized form of torture?" Ricki theorized.

"Could be," Lanie shrugged.

Kate looked at the floor surrounding her with a frown, squinting against the blood stains. "Shell casings?"

"None," Lanie sighed. "Whoever did this was thorough. Picked them all up."

"Then we'll just dig out the slugs." Ryan.

Lanie shook her head. "Slugs have been dug out."

The three detectives exchanged a look as Ricki shook her head. "That doesn't make any sense," the writer said. "I mean…the two in the chest, picking up the shell casings, digging out the slugs…that suggests a professional hit. Someone who knows what they're doing. But the elbows and knees? That's anger. That's hatred."

Esposito nodded. "Personal."

"Any ID on our vic?" Kate asked with a frown. "Wallet, anything?"

"No need," Esposito said. "We know exactly who this is."

Expectant eyes fell on Detectives Esposito and Ryan, and as Ricki moved to Kate's side, the writer dropped her cup of coffee with a gasp when her eyes fell on the man lying on his back. Hot coffee splashed onto Ricki's shoes, but she was far enough back that none of the drink disturbed the crime scene.

Kate turned to give Ricki a quizzical glare, shaking her head.

"Kate…" Ricki swallowed. "That's Dick Coonan."


	41. Chapter 41: Set-Up

_The break room…_

As soon as Ricki had announced to everyone who the dead body in the abandoned car repair shop was, Detectives Ryan and Esposito took charge of the investigation – not just because they had been investigating Dick Coonan all along, but out of deference to Kate. After all, this was the man who had stabbed her mother.

So while the boys went off to do what they did – and Lanie examined Coonan's body on her slab – Ricki and Kate hung out in the break room, by themselves, with the door shut.

All Ricki wanted to do was pull Kate into her arms, to squeeze her in a tight embrace in the hopes of washing away the anguish in her eyes. But Kate hadn't said anything upon their return to the precinct, and Ricki decided the best thing to do for the moment was to give her the space she needed.

Kate could come to her when she was ready.

When Kate finally did speak, her voice cracked. "I feel like I should be happy." She cast a sideways glance to her girlfriend. "I mean…the guy who stabbed my mom is dead."

Taking a cautious step forward, Ricki gently reached out to take Kate's hand into her own, frowning at how the detective's fingers trembled against hers. Ricki squeezed gently, pulling Kate into a light embrace.

"You wanted to be the one to bring him down," Ricki said, resting her chin atop Kate's head. "I get that."

"No." Kate's arms snaked around Ricki's with a squeeze, her eyes red. "I want the bastard who hired him."

"And you'll get him."

"Will I?" Kate pulled back just enough to look into Ricki's eyes, a tear rolling down her cheek. She leaned into the writer's touch when her thumb came up to brush aside the tear. "He's untouchable, Castle. Everyone who's gotten close in this case is _dead_."

Kate slipped out of Ricki's grasp, despite the writer's efforts to keep her arms wrapped around the detective. Ricki watched Kate pacing back and forth, frowning at how helpless she was – and at the fact that this case never seemed to go away. Every time things calmed down, every time Ricki felt like they were getting back to something resembling normal…

And now Kate was back, and she hadn't even had her badge a week…and yet they were knee-deep in Johanna Beckett's murder and the web of corruption surrounding it. Again.

"Kate…"

"Raglan is dead." Kate shook her head. "McCallister is dead. Montgomery is as good as dead. My mother is dead. Maddox is dead. Smith is dead. Coonan is _dead_!" Desperate, tear-stained eyes found Ricki's, and Kate was trembling as her voice cracked. "Everyone is _gone_, Castle!"

Throwing all restraint out the window, Ricki closed the distance between them, grabbing Kate by the shoulders and kissing her long and slow, letting the detective's sob get lost against her lips. Ricki's hands moved up to cup Kate's cheeks, catching the tears running down her face, breaking the kiss.

Ricki's own voice broke, tear brimming in her eyes. "Not everyone, Kate. I'm right here."

"And what if they kill you?" Kate sniffled. "They've already tried."

"And they failed." Ricki kissed Kate's forehead. "Just like they failed when they tried to kill you."

Kate shook her head. "He'll try again."

"All the more reason to track the bastard down." Ricki took Kate's hands into her own, resolve in her eyes, even as tears kept threatening to fall. The writer's heart thudded in her chest; more than anything, she just wanted all of this to stop. "You have to release the tape, Kate."

Kate shook her head with a sniffle. "No…no, not now. Not yet."

"Why?"

"We have to be ready," Kate argued, squeezing Ricki's hands. "We have to make sure Martha and Alexis are safe. We need to make sure my dad's safe. We need to make sure _you're_ safe."

"What about you?" Ricki brushed her thumb over Kate's lower lip.

Kate shook her head. "I'll never be safe. Comes with the badge."

'Let me take you somewhere, Kate." Ricki slipped her arms around Kate's waist, not caring that the blinds separating them from the bullpen were open. If someone saw them, then so be it. "I've got a house in the Hamptons. We can go up there, bide our time, plan our next move."

Kate sniffled and shook her head. "What about the others?"

"Martha and Alexis can come with us," Ricki said. "There's plenty of room for all of us, and they've both been wanting more time with you. Your dad's welcome to come too, or if you'd prefer, he could go to his cabin."

With a quirked brow, Kate felt a grin teasing her features, even as the weight of the moment still sat heavily on her chest. Her scar was pulling again, as it did when her emotions were frayed and her breathing was labored, and her hands rested on Ricki's shoulders. "You really thought this through, huh?"

Ricki shrugged with a knowing smile. "I was gonna ask you to the Hamptons before you got your job back. I figure…this works, too. Only my family knows about the place."

"And now me."

"You're part of the family, Kate." Ricki leaned in for a soft kiss.

Her heart fluttered as the two women kissed, and once the kiss broke, Kate caressed the side of Ricki's face, amazed at just how deeply she felt for this woman. She'd never fallen this hard, this deeply, for any man – let alone the woman whose books helped her deal with the aftermath of Johanna's murder.

More than once, Kate had to pinch herself to realize this relationship was real – not just some figment of an imagination she hardly ever set free. Kate's life didn't call for fantastical dreams; it called for facts, evidence, reality.

All of the facts lined up: she had the most loving, caring woman in the world, and she was madly in love with her.

"But the case…"

"Ryan and Esposito are all over it," Ricki countered. "And you and I both know McNulty's gonna pull you anyway. Sounds like as good a time as any to take some time off."

* * *

_The morgue…_

Lanie Parish was the best at what she did, which was why she often wound up staring at the bodies involved in some of the cities strangest and most out-of-the-ordinary homicides. Strictly speaking, Dick Coonan's murder was not one of them – though the bullet holes in his elbows and knees were definitely not the sort of thing she saw every day.

Still, the fatal blows – a pair of bullets to the heart – were typical, even if the fact that the killer had dug out the slugs was not. Fortunately, she managed to fish a fragment out of Coonan's heart, immediately handing it over to ballistics.

Lanie had long ago mastered the art of breathing through her mouth while performing autopsies and other such procedures. Her latex gloves matched her medical scrubs, and Lanie was careful to wear protective eyewear as she examined the wound on Coonan's left knee.

Detective Esposito stood off to the side, clearly uncomfortable in the harsh light and the overly pristine surroundings. He watched Lanie work from a distance, shifting his weight from one foot to the next every few seconds.

"Something on your mind, Javier?" she asked, still studying the knee. "You usually wait until I call to come down here."

Esposito's eyes flickered back and forth, and he straightened his posture. "No. Just…tell me about the body."

"Uh-uh!" Lanie stood up straight, a hand on her hip. "Boy, you do not get to side-step me like that. But…I can tell you that whoever killed this guy was damn good. I mean, these wounds are precise. Our shooter knew just what tendons to take out to cause the maximum amount of pain."

Esposito frowned. "Close-range?"

"Powder residue is minimal," Lanie explained. "This person didn't just want Dick Coonan dead. They wanted him to suffer."

Keeping his hands in his pockets, despite the fact that he was wearing his own pair of latex gloves, Esposito approached the metal slab and took in Coonan's body. He studied the bullet holes in his chest, frowning at how precise they were. They almost resembled bullet holes he was once responsible for during his military days. They were clean, devoid of powder residue or dried blood.

"Javi." Lanie had crossed over to Esposito's side before he could notice, and he started when he saw her standing next to him. "What's going on? You're not still moping around about a certain writer, are you?"

Clearing his throat, Esposito shook his head. "What? No…"

Lanie arched her brows. "Mm_hmm_."

"She hasn't even been back a week!" There was more anger in Esposito's face than he realized, and he deflated with a sigh. "Not even _one week_, and already she's knee-deep in this mess with her mom again."

Lanie ran a hand up and down Esposito's arm as he continued venting. "When's it gonna end? When is she finally gonna get some peace?" Esposito's lips curled into a snarl, and Lanie thought she saw tears in his eyes, but maybe it was just the lighting.

"Soon," Lanie answered. "And until then, there's us. You, me, Ryan…Ricki…"

"And what if whoever's behind all this starts coming after us?" Esposito argued. "Ricki's already been shot, Lanie – and she's not even a cop!"

Before Lanie could respond, the doors to the morgue swung open and Detective Ryan burst in, a manila folder clutched in his right hand and a more worried than usual look on his face. Both Lanie and Esposito glanced at him, Lanie frowning at the fact that Kevin Ryan appeared to be paler than usual.

Again, she wasn't sure if it was a trick of the lighting, but the look on his face…

"What is it, bro?"

Ryan shook his head and swallowed, clearly hesitant to share. "I, uh…guys, I just got the ballistics back on the fragment."

Lanie and Esposito exchanged a glance.

"Ballistics matched the fragment to a gun registered to Beckett."


	42. Chapter 42: On the Run

_**Author's Note: Please be patient with me, y'all; I'm juggling four fics and I'm about to start one of the busiest work weeks of the year. I'm not abandoning any of my fics, and I hope you guys keep reading and reviewing and supporting. Thanks so much for everything!**_

* * *

Midway through the almost two-hour drive from Manhattan to the Hamptons – a drive made all the easier by the fact that they had a surprisingly easy time getting out of the city – Kate Beckett could already feel the tension lifting from her shoulders. Captain McNulty had agreed to give her the time off, despite the fact that she hadn't even been back a week since her reinstatement.

Ricki's assertion that McNulty would likely pull her from the Coonan case wound up being spot-on, and what better way to make sure Kate wouldn't get involved anyway than to send her away for a bit?

Kate and Ricki held hands throughout the drive, and not for the first time, the detective was thankful that Ricki was there to ground her, to serve as her anchor. It was strange in a way, given how Ricki entered her life like a hurricane barreling in on the coast, but Kate had found that having the writer around made things more bearable.

Staring out the passenger's side window, Kate's free hand drifted to her chest, subconsciously seeking out the small area of raised skin that signaled her resilience, the fact that she survived ordeals that would've killed others – ordeals that, honestly, should've put her in the ground as well. The case that almost killed her had reared its ugly head again, but this time, Kate was willingly turning the other way.

What did that say about her?

"You okay?"

Ricki's voice broke Kate's train of thought, and the detective glanced to her left to see the writer's eyes on her. Ricki's hand squeezed Kate's, and Kate squeezed in return, letting her other hand fall from her chest. Her first instinct was deflection, closing herself off and trying to change the subject, but this was Ricki. No way that would work.

"Yeah, I just…" Kate shook her head. "Time was, I'd be diving in deeper, not…running away."

"We're not running away," Ricki countered, casting a quick glance into the rearview mirror. "We're making sure you follow the captain's orders while we re-group and look to make our next move."

Kate cast a sideways glance with a smirk. "At your spacious beach house in the Hamptons."

"I'm not saying we can't have fun in the meantime."

"Even with the redheads milling about?" Kate cocked her head to the side, referring to the fact that Martha and Alexis would be joining them later that evening. Her eyebrows raised expectantly.

"Spacious," Ricki reminded her girlfriend with a knowing grin. "I'm not just talking about the house, either. Wait until you see the view of the beach and the water. It's honestly my favorite part of that house, Beckett…the calm, the privacy, the serenity. And if the water's too cold," Ricki added with a waggle of her eyebrows, "there's always my private heated pool…"

Kate huffed in laughter. "Wow, you're trying awfully hard to get me in a swimsuit, Castle."

"Well, if you're uncomfortable in a swimsuit, you can always skinny dip."

Despite the laugh that bubbled up, Kate had to admit the idea had its own certain appeal – not that she'd tell Ricki at the moment, because she didn't want to deal with the gloating the writer was sometimes privy to for the remainder of the drive. Instead, she ran her thumb softly over the skin of Ricki's hand, giving her a soft smile that she hoped conveyed the trust she held for the writer.

After all, Ricki had been by her side through this entire ordeal. Whereas others had run from Kate whenever issues involving her mother came up, Ricki Castle had stood her ground. _If you're very lucky, you'll find someone willing to stand with you._

The do-gooder wannabe federal agent had bailed on her. The doctor who spent his life saving sick children half a world away had decided she wasn't worth the effort. But the millionaire, bestselling author, who at one point had lived on Page Six due to her carnal exploits – rumored or otherwise – had been her rock, had been dependable where others had failed.

The irony of it wasn't lost on Kate.

Kate's phone went off, startling them both and ruining the moment. Ricki tried not to roll her eyes as Kate grabbed the device and answered it; she had hoped Kate could leave the phone behind, but she knew better. Kate couldn't sever contact with everyone back in the city any more than Ricki could hide from George.

Ricki hoped it was just Kate's father calling, but something told her it wasn't.

"Beckett."

"_Beckett, where are you?_"

The tone of Ryan's voice made Kate frown, and she exchanged a glance with Ricki. "What's wrong?"

"_McNulty's meeting with the Head of Detectives._" Ryan was clearly trying to keep his voice down, and Kate could almost see him looking over his shoulder, hunched over the phone on his desk. She had put the device on speakerphone. "_There's…we've uncovered some evidence._"

"What evidence?" Ricki asked.

"_Ballistics came back on the partial we pulled out of Coonan._"

Ricki and Kate glanced at each other again, waiting for Ryan to continue. But they were met with silence on the other end, and Ricki's brow furrowed as Kate sat up a little straighter in the passenger's seat. The detective's free hand clamped down harder on Ricki's, and they locked eyes again.

"Ryan…?"

"_Ballistics matched the slug to your gun, Beckett._"

Ricki immediately steered the car to the side of the road, the tires skidding to a stop as she held the steering wheel tight enough that her knuckles turned white. Once the car settled, the dull hum of the engine the only sound keeping the duo company, both women stared at the white phone in Kate's hand.

"What?!" they said in unsion.

"No," Ricki shook her head. "No, that's impossible. Kate has her gun on her."

"_It's not your service piece_," Ryan countered.

Kate's eyes widened, her gaze focusing on Ricki. "My backup…"

"_Look, Javi and I are running interference, but we can't keep this up forever. You're gonna have to face this at some point._"

"Thanks, Ryan, but I don't think it'll come to that."

Kate ended the call with a sigh, sinking lower into her seat with a sigh, her right hand resting on her forehead. She felt Ricki's hand snake through hers again, her fingers automatically interlocking and squeezing. Kate closed her eyes and swallowed back the dread that had been rising in her gut before turning to face her girlfriend.

"I didn't know you had a backup piece," Ricki said.

"It was in my apartment."

Ricki's eyebrows arched. "You mean the apartment you've barely been in since you were shot?"

The implication was clear: at some point after her shooting, someone took her weapon from her apartment with the express purpose of killing Dick Coonan and pinning it on her. Kate knew who it was, too, and that thought scared her far more than if the weapon had been trained on her own forehead.

"I'm it," she shook her head. "I'm the last loose end. Bracken's trying to get rid of me."

"Yeah, but why not just kill you?"

Crass as the question might've been, Kate knew what Ricki meant. Montgomery aside, everyone else associated with this case had been killed. Both Kate and Ricki had been shot, attempts on their lives having failed – if only just barely.

Framing someone for murder: that wasn't really Bracken's M.O.

"Because this is more personal," Kate offered with a shrug. "I've threatened to destroy him, so now he wants to destroy me. He doesn't just want me out of the way, Castle. He wants to watch me burn."

The car was rolling along the highway again, Ricki now more determined than ever to get them to the Hamptons – not just for much-needed time away, but because it was a place hardly anyone knew about and right now, her main goal was to keep Kate as safe as possible. If she was being framed for Coonan's murder, there was no telling who was coming for her.

"Castle, what if the cops up there come for me?"

"They won't," Ricki promised. "Like I said, you, Martha, and Alexis are the only ones who know about the place. There's no way the cops up there will know you're there."

Kate nodded, deciding that if Ricki was confident in their relative anonymity on the easternmost tip of Long Island, then she would be confident in it as well. That confidence wavered, though, once she glanced into the passenger's side mirror in time to see a black, unmarked SUV creeping up on them.

"Castle…"

"Yeah, I see it," Ricki answered, her eyes glued to the rearview mirror as her right foot pressed down harder on the accelerator, the car lurching forward even faster down the stretch of two-lane road.

But the SUV matched Ricki's every move, speeding up when she did, slowing down in concert with her. Ricki's options were limited on this remote highway, with no side streets to turn off into and no other lanes in which to veer. The SUV swung into the other lane, oblivious to any potential oncoming traffic.

Kate latched onto Ricki's right hand as the writer sped up even more, the car now pushing close to a hundred miles an hour. The SUV was undaunted, though, matching that speed and closing to within inches. Though the gas pedal was already mashed to the floorboard, Ricki pushed her foot even harder against it, gritting her teeth once the SUV slammed into her rear bumper for the first time.

Reaching into her purse on the floor, Kate grabbed her service piece as Ricki pressed one of the buttons on the driver's side door to lower the passenger's side window. Kate stuck her head out of the window, carefully cradling the weapon in both hands, closing her right eye as she aimed for the SUV's right front tire.

The first shot clanged off the front bumper. The second shot buried into the pavement. Kate was about to fire off yet another shot when she felt the car swerve to the left. She heard Ricki yell out "Sorry!" as she gathered her bearings, firing off two more rounds – both of which missed the tire in question.

Kate ducked back into the car, half-expecting someone in the SUV to start opening fire in return. But there was no return fire; instead, the SUV against slammed into the back of Ricki's car, and Ricki clutched the steering wheel, trying to maintain control. They were approaching a small bridge, and Kate silently hoped they would cross it. She worried the SUV would try to run them down into the ravine.

Confident there would be no return fire, Kate emerged from the window again, emptying the rest of her clip in the hopes of blowing out the tire. Again, her shots buried themselves in the road and clanged off the chrome bumper of the SUV.

Kate lowered herself into her seat again with a sigh. "I'm out."

Ricki kept her eyes glued on the rearview mirror. "Suddenly wishing I was packing."

The writer's silver Mercedes was now going as fast as it could, but as they approached the bridge, the SUV was going faster – clearly, it had been modified. The two vehicles were side-by-side, and as soon as they got to the bridge, the SUV side-slammed into Ricki's car, jostling her and leaving her scrambling to keep control.

"Ricki!"

"I'm okay!" Ricki kept her vehicle straight, even as the SUV hit the side of the Mercedes again. "Can't say the same for my car."

Since the car was already damaged, Ricki grit her teeth and glared at the SUV, cursing the fact that the windows were tinted. Because of course they were. Ricki swung the wheel to the left, her car returning the favor to the SUV. But the size difference between the vehicles being what it was, the hit had no effect.

Reaching the end of the bridge, the SUV backed off. Ricki kept her foot mashed as hard against the gas pedal as she could, even with the cramp starting to form in her right ankle. Her knuckles were white wrapped around the steering wheel, and Ricki stared out the driver's side mirror, anxious to see what the SUV would do next.

She thought she had the SUV cleared, but the dark vehicle hung a right, its right front fender colliding with the left rear of the Mercedes. Ricki's eyes widened as she felt the car begin to fishtail, her hands frantic on the steering wheel. But the car was already out of control, doing a 180 as it skidded off the road and onto the grass.

Having dropped here empty gun, Kate grabbed Ricki's arm and the door handle, her eyes wide. The skid scrubbed off speed, and Ricki saw the SUV hanging back while they continued to slide. The slide abruptly stopped, though, when the rear end of the Mercedes smacked into a nearby tree.

Both Kate and Ricki lurched forward and the air bags deployed – at which point, everything went black.


	43. Chapter 43: Knockdown

_**Author's Note: One of the thing I enjoy most about this fic is taking what's happened in the show and re-imagining it. Almost like rearranging puzzle pieces in a way. This chapter is no exception. Hope you enjoy it! Reviews are lovely.**_

* * *

By the time Kate Beckett came to, it took a few moments to gather her bearings – to blink the fogginess out of her eyes. Her mind was scrambling for answers, a rush of panic threatening to overwhelm the detective when she took in her surroundings and saw how unfamiliar they were. She was in a rundown motel room, complete with a dingy, stained bathroom she probably wouldn't be caught dead in.

Truth be told, Kate wasn't even sure if she was still in New York.

But once the fog lifted and her eyes adjusted to the dim light, the sight before her made her blood run cold. Ricki was on her knees, hands tied behind her back, a black cloth serving as a gag. Her hair was soaked and dripping around her face, and the writer's body shuddered. In front of Ricki, there was a large vat of ice water.

The implication was obvious; they were torturing Ricki, either in an attempt to get information out of her or to make Kate suffer. Chances were, it was a little bit of both.

The sound of Ricki coughing, hard and violent, made Kate shudder. She sensed movement behind the writer, and a tall man dressed entirely in black emerged from the shadows, brown hair cropped close to his head and a week's worth of stubble on his cheeks. The man's eyes were as dark as any Kate had ever seen, and his lips appeared to be stuck in a permanent sneer.

"I was hoping to wait until you came to," the man said, grabbing the back of Ricki's head and tugging until the writer yelped. "But I'm afraid we're short on time."

As angry and panicked as Kate was, she was also confused. Who was this man? She'd never seen him before. Kate's wrists tugged on her bindings, finding no give. But that didn't stop Kate from lunging forward with a primal yell when she saw the man dunk Ricki face-first into the water, the sight of her girlfriend thrashing and the sound of her muffled cries in the water enough to make Kate think of ripping the man's face off.

But no matter how hard she tugged, Kate was stuck.

"Stop it!" she cried out, gritting her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut.

With another yank, Ricki came up again, gasping loudly for air and coughing so hard her entire body shuddered. The writer squeezed her eyes shut and hunched over, gritting her teeth and shivering.

"Ricki!"

"Oh, she'll be fine," the man said with a shrug. "I mean, so long as you cooperate." The man smirked when Ricki fell onto her right side, shivering so violently that her teeth chattered and her body shuddered. "Her lungs are burning right now. Each breath is agony. You tell me what I want to know, this stops. You resist, I keep this up until she dies."

"Now now, Lockwood," another, more familiar voice called out, emerging from the other room. "No need to be hasty about it. We have all the time in the world. Unlike our friends here."

If Kate's blood wasn't running cold before, it turned downright icy the second William Bracken emerged from the bathroom. He wiped his hands with a paper towel, his suit as impeccable as ever, and every hair on his head in the exact place it was supposed to be. He smirked at the sight of Ricki shivering on the carpet before turning his gaze to Kate.

"I believe you have something that belongs to me, Detective."

Sucking in a deep breath, in a futile attempt to calm her frayed nerves, Kate grit her teeth and glared at the man who had almost singlehandedly ruined her early adult life. "Go to hell…"

With a _tsk_ sound, Bracken turned and shared a gaze with Lockwood. Hal Lockwood responded by grabbing Ricki by her shoulder, hoisting her back onto her knees, and dunking her face-first into the vat of water again. Ricki screamed into the water, and though the sound was muffled, it still carried far enough for Kate to hear the urgency and the suffering behind it.

"I think someone doesn't appreciate the severity of the situation," Bracken said over the writer's cries. "I will have that tape by the time this night is over. How quickly that happens will determine whether the writer lives to see the sunrise."

"You murderous sack of—"

Bracken dropped to a knee in front of Kate, his face inches from hers. "Still clinging to the past, I see." He shook his head. "If you really think about it, Detective, you should be thanking me."

The hate rolled off of Kate, so much so that she shook almost as much as her girlfriend. "Thanking you."

"For what I _gave_ you. Everything you are, everything you've accomplished, is because of me."

"Is that how you justify murder?" Kate shook her head. "It builds character?" The detective leaned in closer to Bracken, staring at him through hooded, hate-filled eyes. "Then why don't you give me a chance to build yours?"

Bracken stood again with a smirk, watching as Lockwood tossed Ricki's soaked body to the carpet again. The writer coughed and hacked, ice water spilling from her mouth onto the stained carpet, her chest expanding as she wheezed, desperate for oxygen to fill her burning lungs.

"Guess there's no point in asking for your vote." Bracken shook his head. "Part of me really admires you, Detective. Your moral certitude, the way you fight for what you believe in, even knowing it's going to destroy you. It's a shame it has to come to this."

Kate's nostrils flared. "Just kill me already."

"You're not dying tonight, Beckett." Bracken glanced over his shoulder again, just in time to see Lockwood again grab Ricki by the shoulder and hoist her back upright. "And if you tell Lockwood where the tape is, neither will she."

When Bracken disappeared out the room's main door, Lockwood dunked Ricki into the ice water once more, both hands tugging on the writer's hair as she screamed into the water and thrashed her arms. Lockwood glared at Kate as he held Ricki down, the sneer on his face growing ever so slightly.

"There's one way this ends, Detective."

For a moment, Kate seriously considered giving Lockwood what he wanted, even though she knew it would mean forever losing the chance to bring Bracken to justice. But she couldn't bear to see Ricki suffering like this anymore. Every time the writer screamed or gurgled, every time Ricki flinched and shuddered, Kate felt her heart tearing into pieces, a roiling of acid in her gut threatening to spill out of her mouth.

But before Kate could say anything, Lockwood brought Ricki up again, and in between gasps for air and body-wracking coughs, the writer shook her head. "Don't…" Breath was almost impossible to come by. "Don't tell him…"

"Your girlfriend's not very bright," Lockwood said with a smirk, tugging on Ricki's damp hair. The writer gasped in pain as her head jerked back, but she suddenly fell to the floor, face-first, when Lockwood's hand slipped out of her hair.

Kate watched as Lockwood fell face-first onto the floor, his eyes wide. Lockwood's body rested on its side, his face frozen in shock. A dark dot appeared in the center of Lockwood's forehead, a trail of red oozing down his skin and dripping onto the carpet.

Kate looked up and saw a bullet hole in the window to her right.

The door burst open again, a SWAT team pouring into the room, the sights on their weapons almost blinding Kate. Everything was a blur at this point; she barely noticed Detective Ryan checking Lockwood for a pulse as Detective Esposito approached her from behind, hastily doing away with her bindings.

"Ricki…"

"She'll be fine," Ryan said, standing and holstering his weapon. A chorus of "Clear!" echoed throughout the otherwise abandoned hotel room, SWAT team members filing out to leave the detectives and Ricki.

Kate frowned at the boys. "How?"

Esposito nodded toward Ricki. "We caught word of a car en route to the Hamptons being run off the road. Once we discovered the car was registered to Castle, we figured something was up."

"Be thankful Lockwood was sloppy," Ryan added. "The GPS on your phone has been on the whole time."

Satisfied with the explanation – and thankful yet again for the fact that a criminal wasn't nearly as smart as they thought – Kate crawled to her girlfriend, who was still cradled up on the floor, freezing and whimpering. The detective stroked Ricki's wet locks, lovingly stroking the cold skin of her cheek.

"Hey," she whispered, hovering over Ricki. "Castle…look at me."

Ricki cringed as she turned her head, blinking herself back into focus as she looked up at her girlfriend. Her lover, her hero. Ricki reached up to trail her finger along Kate's jaw, but her fingers trembled so much that she missed. "Beckett…"

"Hey…" Kate cradled Ricki's face in her hands, hoping to transfer some warmth. "It's okay. You're okay."

Kate curled her legs under herself, sitting on the dingy carpet as she gently rolled Ricki's body into her lap, feeling just how hard the writer was shivering as one arm wrapped around her waist and the other stroked her damp hair. Ricki closed her eyes and whimpered once more, but after a few moments, the shivering started to subside.

She'd have to be checked out; somewhere, Kate could hear Ryan calling for an ambulance. The fact that the boys were here was comforting – it meant wherever they were, they weren't too far from home.

"I'm done waiting," Kate whispered. "I'm so sorry…"

Ricki's eyes barely flicked open. "For what?"

"I shouldn't have waited to release the tape," the detective whispered, lest someone else hear them. "We should've released it as soon as we could." At least that way, they could've avoided this mess. If they had released the tape sooner, Bracken couldn't have had Lockwood run them off the road and then torture Ricki.

If they had just released the tape as soon as they got it – instead of Kate holding out over some selfish ideal that _she_ had to be the one to bring down Bracken – Ricki would be safe and they would be living happily together.

As it was, they were on the run. At best.

"Yo, Beckett."

Though she didn't want to, Kate looked up to regard Detective Esposito, frowning at the serious expression on his face. "What, Espo?"

"We have to bring you in," he explained. "Chief of Detectives has it out for you. He's convinced you killed Dick Coonan."

"Tell him it can wait," Kate turned her attention back to Ricki, her fingers still stroking the writer's hair. "I'm not going anywhere until Ricki's okay."

Detective Ryan had crossed to the bed as Kate and Esposito had their brief – was it really an argument? – before kneeling in front of Kate with the olive green comforter bunched up in his hands. Giving Kate an apologetic look, he covered Ricki's trembling body in the thick material, tucking it as best he could with the writer huddled in Kate's arms.

Kate smiled in gratitude as Ryan stood again, wrapping her girlfriend more completely in the warm, thick comforter, leaning down to kiss Ricki's forehead.

"Ambulance will be here soon," Ryan said. "They'll look her over and then…" He sighed and shook his head. Neither he nor Esposito liked this, but they had no choice. She knew they had no choice. "Kate, you _have_ to come with us."

"And I will," Kate nodded. "Once I know Castle's okay."

Clearly satisfied with her answer – or at least being smart enough to realize they had no say otherwise – Ryan and Esposito exited the hotel room, leaving Kate alone with her shivering girlfriend until the ambulance arrived. Kate leaned down and gave Ricki a gently kiss, her arms squeezing the writer.

"I love you."

Ricki's eyes opened in time to see Kate reach into her back pocket for her white iPhone. The writer frowned and lifted her head, but the resulting shiver made her collapse in Kate's arms again. "What're you—"

"Putting an end to this."

The line connected.

"_Yes?_"

"This is Detective Beckett."

"_Beckett…to what do I owe the pleasure?_"

"It's time." Kate locked eyes with Ricki. "Let's slay the Dragon."


	44. Chapter 44: Veritas

_**Author's Note: Just because this arc is wrapping up, that does not mean this fic is ending. In fact, there is no end in sight for this fic. I plan on keeping this fic going indefinitely. Enjoy and review!**_

* * *

_The Twelfth…_

"I hope you realize how serious an accusation that is."

Brian McNulty was a no-nonsense kind of captain – a lot like Victoria Gates in that regard, but without the rampant corruption. He straightened his tie and sat up a little straighter in his leather chair, the seat squeaking a little under his weight. He regarded Kate Beckett with a studious, if slightly suspicious, glare.

Kate, for her part, was loathe to be here. She wanted to be at the hospital, despite all assurances that her girlfriend would be okay – that her visit was mostly a formality. She shrugged, her eyes on McNulty's desk without really taking it in.

Everything was a blur. Even in her emotionally fraught state, though, Kate saw clearly what needed to happen. That tape had to come out. That tape _would_ come out; the wheels were already in motion. She would ruin William Bracken's reputation, beyond repair, and then she would lead him away in handcuffs – ideally for the whole world to see.

"I understand how it all sounds," she admitted. "But we have the evidence, sir. Not just the mafia extortion ring, either. Senator Bracken ordered the hit on my mother."

"You keep talking about evidence," McNulty countered, "but I've yet to see it!"

As if on-cue, a breaking news bulletin splashed onto the television screen over McNulty's shoulder. He swiveled in his chair to stare at the screen, just in time to see a well-coiffed news anchor staring solemnly into the camera.

_Breaking news out of Manhattan this afternoon, as yet more evidence has surfaced implicating Senator William Bracken. The charge this time: conspiracy to murder. EyeWitness News has obtained an audio recording, as have CNN and the Associated Press, in which Bracken – who at the time was the New York District Attorney – is heard discussing the mafia extortion ring with three corrupt police officers. But the tape reveals far more. Before playing this audio, we must warn you that some of the language may be disturbing to some viewers._

McNulty and Kate locked eyes as the recording began to play, a transcription of the conversation unraveling on-screen.

_Bracken: You want assurances? Here you go…I assure you that as easily as I pinned Bob Armen's murder on Pulgatti, I could just as easily put it on the cops who actually did the deed._

_Montgomery: Pulgatti knows he's been framed. What if someone gets onto this?_

_Bracken: Then I'll handle them._

_Montgomery: You? How?_

_Bracken: I know people, Roy. Dangerous people. Anyone who gets too close – like that bitch lawyer Johanna Beckett who's been poking around – I'll have them killed. I've had people killed before._

McNulty muted the television with a sigh, sinking deeper into his chair and running his fingers through his short-cropped hair. "Fine, you have evidence." McNulty nodded toward the bullpen, where the Chief of Detectives sat. "But what about Dick Coonan?"

"Coonan was the man Bracken hired to kill my mother," Kate explained. "Just as Bracken hired the man who shot me, shot Ricki Castle, and killed the man named Mr. Smith."

"And what about this man who kidnapped you and tortured Ms. Castle?"

"Hal Lockwood," Kate confirmed. "We think it was an alias, but he was also working for Bracken. Bracken was in the room while Ricki was being tortured. Not to mention, Vulcan Simmons had kidnapped Ricki's daughter as a message to me and Ricki for getting too close in the case."

"All this from a man trying to run for President." McNulty shook his head and glanced out of his office – a glass box that overlooked the entire Homicide floor. "I'm guessing you wanna be the one to do the honors."

A knowing smile crept onto Kate's face. "Sir, I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

_Bellevue…_

As soon as the breaking news bulletin hit the airwaves, Ricki Castle leapt from her hospital bed, shed the flimsy gown that barely covered her anyway, and reached for the spare set of clothes Alexis had given Detective Ryan. Ricki had just fastened the last button on her red button-down – one of Kate's favorites – and grabbed her blazer as a white-haired man in a matching coat entered the room.

"Ms. Castle," he said, glancing at the clipboard in his hand, "you haven't been discharged yet."

"Doing it myself," she said with a shrug. Ricki knew what Kate's next move would be, and she would be damned if she was going to miss it.

"Ms. Castle, I don't recommend—"

"Noted," Ricki said before a violent cough made her shudder. "But I'm not in ICU and I'm not on the brink of death, so there's not much you can do to stop me."

Ricki pushed her way past the doctor before he had a chance to protest any further, adrenaline making up for the strength she was still lacking after her ordeal. Ricki had made sure to wear a long-sleeve tee under her button-down hoping the extra layer would stem the remaining chills.

A chill did run through Ricki as she caught sight of Detective Esposito, but it wasn't from the cold. Anticipation was almost so palpable that the writer could reach out and touch it, and she had to force herself to slow down before stopping in front of the detective.

"Hey, it's the human popsicle." Esposito tried to keep a straight face, but failed. "How you feelin', Castle?"

"Five by five, Javi," Ricki answered with a sideways grin.

"McNulty gave his blessing," Esposito explained as they marched out of the hospital, the bright afternoon sun almost blinding Ricki once they were outside.

"Then I guess we're off to a press conference."

Esposito stopped in his tracks, studying Ricki. "What press conference?"

Ricki glanced over her shoulder. "The press conference I'm sure Bracken has called by now in an effort to get in front of this."

"You really think she'd do it public like that?"

"This isn't _just_ an arrest, Espo," she explained as they started walking again, approaching the red Charger with Detective Ryan behind the wheel. "This is personal. This is…the entire reason Beckett became a cop. William Bracken didn't just have her mother killed. He tried to kill Beckett. He tried to kill me. He had my daughter kidnapped. And when that all failed, he tried to frame Beckett for murder."

Esposito nodded as if he got it. "So if Beckett's gonna bring him down…"

"…Then it's gonna be _epic_." Ricki smirked as she slipped into the back seat of the Charger. "Best. Arrest. Ever."

* * *

_Manhattan…_

William Bracken was used to being surrounded by media, throngs of tape recorders and microphones pointed his way to take down everything that came out of his mouth. But the scrum meeting Bracken in front of his Manhattan office building, which extended all the way to the sidewalk on the other side of the street, was unlike anything he'd ever seen.

There hadn't been this many people when he announced he wanted to run for President. Even worse was the reason why everyone _was_ here.

He'd seen the same breaking news alert as everyone else. CNN had talked about that damn tape non-stop for the past two hours, and the Associated Press had already blasted a news bulletin to every newspaper and website in the country – and even a few outside. It was only a matter of time before Reuters followed suit.

Best case scenario, Bracken's career was over.

His first instinct was to call someone, to have Kate Beckett dealt with once and for all – because it turned out her bluff wasn't a bluff after all – but there was no one left for Bracken to call. Lockwood was dead. Coonan was dead. Maddox was dead. Every time he sent someone to take care of the cop, they wound up dead.

As annoying as Johanna Beckett had been, the thorn in his side during his DA days, she had nothing on her daughter.

Knowing he could no longer put this off, Bracken emerged from his office building, sighing and fastening the buttons of his coal gray blazer as flashbulbs exploded and the reporters began shouting over each other. Even as Bracken approached the lectern, grabbing the wood and examining the cluster of microphones arranged like some media bouquet, the throng before him would not shut up.

_Senator, did you kill Johanna Beckett?_

_Senator Bracken, where is Roy Montgomery?_

_Will you be turning yourself in, Senator?_

_How will this affect your run for President?_

"If you'll all let me speak," Bracken raised his voice until the scrum finally quieted to at least a dull murmur, which was far more manageable than the barrage of question after question being shouted at him. "Rest assured that there is no truth to the accusations."

_That's your voice on the tape, Senator. How do you explain that?_

Bracken sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Truth be told, his communications director was ill-equipped to handle something of this magnitude, and whereas Bracken paid off certain news directors to make the mafia extortion story go away, he was smart enough to know that wouldn't work this time.

"There's only one explanation," a familiar voice cut through the crowd, and Bracken's heart skipped a beat when he saw the long auburn locks emerging from the scrum. His jaw clenched, and Bracken grabbed the edges of the lectern just a little tighter, until his nails began digging slightly into the wood.

* * *

Kate Beckett ascended the stone steps leading to the lectern, ignoring the flashbulbs behind her. The murmurs of the assembled press registered in her ears, but her laser focus – long one of her strongest assets as a cop – was on full display. She reached into her back pocket, grabbing her silver handcuffs.

_Who is that?_

_Isn't that Johanna's daughter?_

_No, it's Nikki Heat!_

"That was your voice on that tape," Kate said when she was finally face-to-face with the man who completely re-shaped her life. Kate stood as tall as she could, trying to mask the trembling in her fingers and the quiver of her lower lip. Her eyes burned with tears that wanted to fall, but those would have to wait.

She had worked for almost fifteen years for this moment. She would not let emotion get the better of her. Not in front of him. Not in front of the assembled media.

"You're not going to the White House," she added, fighting the urge to smile when Senator Bracken's posture stiffened and something unfamiliar flickered in his eyes.

Kate stood behind Bracken, positioning his hands behind his back, the audible _click_ of her cuffs latching around his wrists almost drowned out by the relentless flashbulbs going off. This was going to make the front page of tomorrow's _New York Times_; this was going to lead every newscast that evening. CNN would play this video on an endless loop for at least the next thirty-six hours.

"William Bracken," Kate's voice remained steady, though it threatened to falter, "you are under arrest on charges of extortion, money laundering, and several counts of conspiracy to commit murder – including the murder of Johanna Beckett…"

Her voice cracked and Kate tugged hard on Bracken's wrists before leading him down the steps. "…as well as the attempted murder of Ricki Castle and myself."

The assembled media parted like the Red Sea as Kate led Senator Bracken to a waiting police cruiser. Detective Esposito stood with the rear door on the passenger's side open, and Kate kept her gaze on the open door, even amid the commotion.

_Do you feel vindicated, Detective?_

_Will the feds get involved with this case?_

_What's it like being Castle's muse?_

Guiding Bracken into the back of the car, Kate smiled as the door slammed shut, taking silent satisfaction in the glare Bracken threw her way through the window. Kate stood a little taller and watched the cruiser pull off, taking Bracken to a secret location to begin the process of filing charges.

His legal team would release the proverbial hounds – if they hadn't already – but Kate felt confident in the case against the Senator. Between the file Montgomery had hidden and the tape that was just released, Bracken didn't have the power he normally enjoyed.

"So," Esposito approached, "how does it feel to slay the Dragon?"

Kate's smile broadened when she caught sight of Ricki standing behind Esposito, even as tears were building in her eyes. "Cathartic."

She slipped past Esposito before closing the distance between herself and her girlfriend, Kate's eyes closing when they wrapped each other into a warm, tight embrace, and Kate's arms squeezed when she felt Ricki shivering.

The detective burrowed her face into the crook of Ricki's neck, and the writer's arms tightened even more around her. "I'm so glad you're here, Castle…"

"I'm so proud of you," Ricki's voice cracked, and the writer pulled back just enough to kiss Kate's temple. "And so is she."

"I never could've done this without you."

Ricki shook her head and tightened her hold on her girlfriend. "You would've found a way."

"No, Castle," Kate said, pulling back to look Ricki in the eye, brushing a strand of dark hair out of the writer's face. "You kept me sane, you kept me whole. This case would've killed me if it weren't for you."

The two women kissed, thankful the media scrum had largely dissipated after Bracken had been led away in cuffs. A couple tears fell from Kate's eyes, and Ricki's hands cupped her face as they got lost in each other. The relief was palpable, practically coming off of Kate in waves, and even Ricki had tears in her eyes because of the enormity of what finally happened.

"So," Ricki sniffled once the kiss broke, "what now?"

Brushing a tear off her cheek, Kate smiled as wide as she had in weeks. "Take me home, Castle."


	45. Chapter 45: Hurry Up and Wait

**_Author's Note: Thanks again for the continued support, as well as your patience while I sift through all of these fics on top of everything else I've got going on. Posted today to celebrate #CastleFanficMonday._**

* * *

_The Hamptons…_

Kate Beckett couldn't believe she managed to get a week off so soon after returning to work. Then again, in the short time since the NYPD gave her back her badge, she'd been framed for murder, watched her girlfriend tortured, and finally brought down the man responsible for her mother's death.

If that didn't call for a vacation, nothing did.

Ricki's house at the Hamptons was breathtaking, easily the most beautiful and expansive place Kate had ever seen. She only half paid attention to the tour, though, because as soon as they pulled up in the driveway, all she wanted to do was hide away in the writer's bedroom, shedding clothes and making up for all the time they had lost in recent weeks.

Not that she could forget how Ricki was by her side – even checking herself out of the hospital early just to see Kate make the arrest that turned her into more of a star than Nikki Heat ever would. But being framed for murder and watching Ricki being waterboarded really wasn't all that romantic.

So in the middle of the night, with both of them naked and covered in a sheen of sweat, Kate kicked the soft covers to the floor and started kissing a trail along Ricki's body. The writer stirred once Kate's lips found the scar on her side, her own mark of strength and survival, and Ricki opened her eyes as her hands reached for Kate's shoulders.

"Ready for round four, Beckett?" Ricki's voice was husky, drenched in exhaustion and arousal.

The detective's hands cupped Ricki's breasts, squeezing them softly as the writer's nipples poked against her palms, and her devilish grin pierced the moonlight spilling into the bedroom. "Mm, maaaybe."

Without another word, Ricki sat up and rolled Kate onto her back, both women slipping their arms around each other as Ricki spread Kate's legs with her right knee, devouring the detective in as hard and wanton a kiss as she could give at this late hour. Kate moaned into Ricki's mouth, glad they were on the other end of the property from the redheads, her fingernails digging into Ricki's back.

With a huff of a growl, Ricki's mouth moved to where Kate's neck and shoulder met, smiling against the detective's skin when she arched her back off the bed. Before long, Ricki was planting kisses along Kate's collarbone, down the valley between her breasts – paying special attention to her scar – before working down over her stomach.

By the time Ricki took her place between Kate's legs, she took to teasing the detective, letting her lips hover her inner thighs, working ever so close to her warm core before turning her attention to the other thigh. Kate huffed in frustration, her fingers tangled in Ricki's dark hair and tugging.

"C'mon, Castle," she whispered through gritted teeth. "You know you want to…"

Digging her nails into Kate's hips, Ricki responded by burying her face between Kate's legs, finding her throbbing clit and immediately trapping it in her mouth. Kate bucked off the bed with a gasp, tightening her grip on the writer's hair as her hips began grinding up and down of their own accord.

Once Ricki's tongue slipped inside her, Kate's thighs quivered and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. At this rate, she was probably going to sleep until noon the next day, but it was already worth it.

* * *

_The next morning…_

Much to Ricki's surprise, she woke before Kate. It was normally the other way around. Then again, Ricki figured she had sufficiently worn her out the previous night, a thought that brought a smug grin to the writer's face as she took in the sight of her girlfriend asleep in her bed. No matter how many times she got to wake up next to Kate, Ricki could never get over it.

This remarkable, extraordinary woman had chosen her, had given her heart over to Ricki when she honestly hadn't given her any reason to. Ricki was in the way, childish, in many ways everything Kate Beckett wasn't – and yet, her muse, her inspiration, was also the most important person in her life.

Ricki knew just how lucky she was, even with all they had endured.

Careful not to wake Kate, Ricki slipped out of bed and pulled a baby blue robe over her shoulders. Tying the robe at her waist, Ricki stole one last glance at her sleeping lover, smiling to herself and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Readers loved the relationship she had built between Nikki Heat and Jamie Rook, but the fact of the matter was, that relationship would never come close to her own with Kate.

Ricki padded her way down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Alexis was already eating breakfast. She buried her nose in a book while chewing on her oatmeal, only looking up once Ricki started up the coffee maker and retrieved two mugs from the cabinet.

"Hey, mom."

"Hey, pumpkin." Ricki snagged a handful of grapes from the bowl of fruit sitting on the counter, popping a few in her mouth while the coffee brewed. "Don't tell me you're studying already."

The teenager laughed and shook her head. "No, this is leisure reading."

"It's not the new Patterson book, is it?" Ricki teased. "Because I was quite clear that I would ground you if I saw you with any of his books."

"No," Alexis laughed again. "It's Alex Conrad."

Ricki frowned, pouring sugar into her mug. "Don't think I've heard of him."

"He's new," Alexis said, closing the book and showing her mother the cover. "And, based on his acknowledgements, he's a big fan of yours."

"Well, nice to see someone with good taste," Ricki teased before adding vanilla flavoring to the second mug and grabbing a small shaker of cinnamon.

A comfortable silence fell between Ricki and Alexis as the redhead worked on her oatmeal and Ricki nursed her coffee. Ricki stared out the windows overlooking the back of the estate, a marvelous view of the water. The surf was calm, but within a few hours, Ricki knew it would kick up again.

"Mom?"

When Ricki turned to regard her daughter again, her heart skipped a beat. The redhead was palming a small navy blue velvet box, and Ricki glanced over her shoulder before setting down her mug.

"Alexis…"

"It fell out of your bag last night," Alexis explained. "I figured you didn't want Kate seeing it yet, so I picked it up and kept it in my room overnight."

Ricki took a seat in the stool next to Alexis, taking the box and opening it to study the diamond ring encased therein. The writer sighed and closed the box again, slipping it into one of the deep pockets in her robe.

"When are you gonna ask?"

"I, uh…" Ricki sighed. "I'm not sure."

This was so out of Ricki's territory. Not the marriage bit – having been twice divorced, Ricki knew all too well how married life could go – but the uncertainty, the waiting. In years past, if Ricki wanted something, she just went after it and decided to deal with the consequences after the fact.

But now, now that she wanted to call Kate her own for the rest of her life – and the fact that the state of New York had actually made such a thing legally possible – Ricki found herself in doubt. Not that Kate loved her – she was confident in that regard – but the last thing Ricki wanted to do was push to the point where Kate ran away.

For someone whose life was built on a lack of restraint, Ricki was faced with a mountain of it.

"It's funny," she said, "like, everyone knows I'm bi, but it's just a cute joke to them. 'Oh, look at Ricki, she'll have a fling with anyone.' This idea that I'll sleep with anyone and everyone, just…because."

Not that Ricki hadn't given that line of thinking a sprinkling of truth, but every time Paul mentioned her "bad girl" image, Ricki cringed. Sure, it had helped book sales, to an extent, but Ricki found her one-night stand days long a thing of the past – even before Kate Beckett came into her life.

"But now?"

"But now…" Ricki shook her head with a sideways grin. "It's different with Kate. Even compared to Martin and George. I know we haven't been together that long, but…shit, all the stuff we've been through, it's like we've already been together a lifetime."

"And you wanna take the next step."

"I do," Ricki said. "I just worry that she's not ready."

"Well," Alexis shrugged, "there's only one way to find out, isn't there?"

"And what about you?" Ricki brushed a strand of hair behind Alexis' ear. "Would you be okay with this?"

"Of course," Alexis said. "Mom, I just want you to be happy, and clearly Detective Beckett makes you happy. I mean, I worry sometimes, because her job is dangerous and you're not trained like she is, but…" The redhead sighed and finished the last of her oatmeal. "I like Detective Beckett. She's smart, she's brave…she's been really good for you."

Ricki leaned in and gave Alexis a kiss to the forehead. "How did I wind up with such a wonderful daughter?"

"I often wonder that myself," the redhead joked before taking her mother's hand into her own. "Ask her. Something tells me, worst-case scenario? You'll get a 'not yet'."

Ricki didn't want a "not yet;" she wanted a yes. She was tired of waiting. Sure, they'd only known each other long enough for Ricki to publish two books; _Naked Heat_ had just hit store shelves, and she was almost finished with her first draft of _Heat Rises_. But in the months since she met Kate, Ricki knew exactly what she wanted for the rest of her life, and their combined near-death experiences only made her that much more determined.

Not to mention impatient.

* * *

_The Twelfth…_

Detectives Ryan and Esposito stood side-by-side in front of the white dry-erase board, studying the contents laying out their most recent case. Ryan flicked off the cap of the red dry-erase pen, before approaching the board and jotting down a new entry to the timeline, a potential lead tossed their way thanks to security footage across the street from a suspect's apartment.

The footage showed Marcus Gates, their prime suspect, walking into his apartment building at 7:35 p.m. – seven minutes before their victim, Linda Russo, had been killed several blocks away.

"I was so sure it was him," Esposito said with a shake of his head.

"Man, I wish Beckett was here," Ryan added, leaning against the desk with her name plate on it.

"I don't," Esposito argued. "Everything she's been through lately? The last thing she needs is to tackle a case involving a serial killer who's been dormant for four years."

"Maybe, but we could use her help."

"And why's that?" Esposito cocked his head to the side. "What, are we not good enough to tackle this case by ourselves?"

"You tell me, Javi," Detective Ryan sighed, pointing at the murder board. "We've got nothing. Our prime suspect just alibi'd out, who knows when the next body's gonna drop, and oh yeah, do I need to mention the fact that _my girlfriend_ fits the type that this bastard goes for?!"

"Jenny's gonna be fine, bro," Esposito countered. "3XK doesn't go after girls who have loved ones. He specifically picks on girls that no one will miss."

"Maybe," Ryan shrugged. "But I'll feel a lot better once this freak's back behind bars."

As Ryan turned to go back to his desk, Esposito approached the murder board again to take a closer look at the digitized frame from the security footage. He squinted at the picture before grabbing it, a proverbial light bulb having gone off in his head, and approaching Ryan's desk.

He flopped into his seat and tossed the picture onto Ryan's desk.

"That's not Gates."

"The hell you talking about, Javi?" Ryan shook his head and grabbed the photo. "That's his hairstyle, his tattoo, the outfit he wore the night of the murder…"

"But the tattoo ain't right," Esposito reached for one of the folders on his desk, flipping it open and showing Ryan a series of photos of Gates from his time in prison – specifically, the one of the tattoo on the back of his neck.

Ryan squinted at that photo before returning to the one in his grasp. "Son of a bitch…"

"And, the man in that photo is too tall to be Gates," Esposito added. "Marcus Gates is still out there."

Ryan tossed the photo back to Esposito. "And he's got a partner."


	46. Chapter 46: Escalating

_The Hamptons…_

Kate Beckett's stay at the Hamptons left her the most relaxed she had felt in months, if not years. It hadn't been without its bumps – her first night there, Kate awoke from nightmares of watching her girlfriend being tortured. But as soon as Ricki wrapped her arms around Kate's waist and kissed her temple, the nightmares ceased.

After almost a week, part of Kate didn't want to go back to the city. She knew she had to return to work eventually – and if the texts lighting up her phone from Detective Ryan were any indication, they were anxious to have her back – but Kate loved being out here, by the water, spending lazy days and blissful nights with the woman she loved.

The trip had even given her some much-needed bonding time with Alexis and Martha, though in a way, Kate still felt like she was walking on egg shells around the redheads. Martha in particular had been weary – not that Martha hated Kate, but given all she and Ricki had endured to this point, the older redhead made it clear how important her family's safety was to her.

Kate admired Martha for that fierce loyalty, and she hoped there would come a day where Martha would be that protective of her. Not that Kate needed such loyalty, but the longer this relationship went, the more Kate started to think of herself as possibly an extension of Rodgers/Castle family.

But without Martha's blessing…

Kate was curled up on the couch, a copy of _Naked Heat_ resting in her lap. She had begun the book that morning, her second read-through, and already she was on the next to last chapter. So engrossed in the story, was Kate, that she almost didn't hear when Martha burst through the front door, a half dozen shopping bags in her hands and a large pair of sunglasses resting atop her head.

"Oh, Katherine, darling, there you are," Martha announced, dropping her bags and wandering toward the couch. "I was hoping we'd have a chance to talk amongst ourselves while we were out here."

Kate frowned a little, marking her place on the book before setting it aside. "Is everything alright?" The detective eyed the bags sitting by the door. "You…didn't buy me a whole new wardrobe, did you?"

"Nonsense, dear," Martha gave a dismissive wave of her hand as she sat next to Kate. "You certainly don't need my help in that department. I just thought it would beneficial for us to, I don't know, clear the air."

Kate's frown deepened. "I don't understand."

"Well, I know I haven't always been the nicest to you—"

"Martha," Kate interrupted. "You don't have to explain yourself to me. You were just worried about your daughter and your granddaughter."

"That does not excuse my rudeness," Martha said with a shake of her head. "Look, Katherine, despite the fact that one of you seems to find yourself at death's door every other week, the reality is, you've made my daughter the happiest she's been in a long time."

A blush and a smile crept onto Kate's face simultaneously as she looked down, taking in the silhouetted form of her literary alter ego spread along the spools of a typewriter on the cover of the book. Some of the uniforms at the Twelfth had given her a hard time about it, and at first it had rankled her, but now she took it all in stride.

"Martha…"

"As far as I'm concerned, Katherine, you are a member of this family," Martha added, standing and resting her thin hand on the detective's shoulder before leaning in so her lips were near Kate's ear. "And just between you and me, darling? I have a pair of earrings that would go perfectly with a wedding dress."

Kate watched Martha saunter off, mouth agape, too stunned to form words.

* * *

_The Twelfth…_

Jerry Tyson fidgeted in the box. That in itself wasn't unusual, but the fact that he wasn't actually a suspect was what made it out of the ordinary. He glanced at the ceiling lights, his arms crossed in front of him and his fingers tugging on the shoulders of his dark gray hoodie. Tyson rocked back and forth in his chair, his eyes glancing at the two-way mirror.

He flinched when the door swung open, only relaxing once Detectives Ryan and Esposito sat across from him. His eyes danced from one detective to the other, and he shook his head before leaning forward.

"I don't know what you want from me," Tyson said, "but I ain't talkin'."

"That's a shame," Esposito said as he smoothed out his tie, "because right now, you're our only hope to make sure 3XK doesn't kill again."

"We know Marcus Gates has a partner, Jerry," Ryan added. "We also know that you and he were friends when you were at Sing Sing. So all we need to know is…did he ever mention to you anything about a partner or an accomplice?"

Tyson shook his head and glanced over his shoulder, his fingers tapping against the surface of the table in a nervous tick. "No," he said, shaking his head more vehemently. "I can't do it. I won't. He'll know. He—he'll know, and he'll come after Samantha, and—"

"He won't," Esposito lied. "We already have Samantha in protective custody. Marcus can't touch her."

Tyson's eyes met Esposito's before Tyson visibly deflated with a sigh. He shook his head again with a smirk before clasping his hands together and leaning forward again. "Alright, I'll tell you what I know," he agreed. "But he never said anything about a partner."

Ryan frowned. "No accomplice, no protégé?"

Tyson shook his head. "Man only ever talked about himself." Then, as if recognition overtook him, Tyson's eyes widened and he straightened his posture. "Actually, there was one other person he'd talk about."

Ryan and Esposito both leaned forward after exchanging a glance.

"This woman," Tyson began. "He was _obsessed_ with her. Which was weird, because she totally wasn't his type."

Esposito clicked his pen. "Whaddya mean?"

"Like, his victims are all a type, right?" Tyson shrugged. "Blonde, runaways, yadda yadda. This girl…man, you wanna talk _hot_? Long, dark hair, legs that seemed to go on for miles. Oh, and she was _loaded_. All sorts of money."

Ryan's eyes narrowed. "The exact opposite of his victims."

"Any idea who this woman is?" Esposito held his pen at the ready, about to jot down anything at a moment's notice. "You remember him saying a name or anything?"

Tyson squinted, as if lost in thought, pounding his left fist against his forehead. Then he slapped an open palm against the table, his eyes wide in an _a-ha_ moment, his dancing back and forth between the two detectives. "It was, uh…that writer. Oh, what was her name…?" He snapped his fingers repeatedly before pointing at Detective Ryan. "Oh, I got it now! Castle. Her name was Castle."

Ryan and Esposito exchanged another look, the latter dropping his pen. The partners leaned in close, and Ryan shook his head. "Still think we can solve this without Beckett?"

Esposito fumed, glaring back at Jerry Tyson before fishing his phone out of his pocket and storming out of the interrogation room. Ryan sighed and shook his head, following his partner.

* * *

_The Hamptons…_

"This is beautiful, Castle."

Kate had been here for nearly a week, and the view overlooking the ocean still overwhelmed her. She was so used to her backdrop being Manhattan's many skyscrapers that any view that didn't includes rows upon rows of glass and brick astonished her.

The two walked hand-in-hand along the shore, and Kate relished in the feel of the waves as they tickled her bare feet. Ricki had boasted of the serenity this place offered when they first arrived and, for once, she hadn't been exaggerating. If Kate had her way, weekend getaways to the Hamptons would become a regular occurrence for them.

Her earlier conversation with Martha sparked in Kate's head; maybe this would make a great wedding spot.

Ricki squeezed Kate's hand. "Penny for your thoughts, Beckett?"

"Just not sure if I'm ready to go back home yet," Kate admitted with a smile, brushing an unruly strand of hair out of her face. "This place is…first morning I woke up here, I thought I was dreaming."

"Yeah, this place'll do that." Ricki stopped, keeping her hold on Kate's hand as they turned to look into each other's eyes. The writer leaned in for a quick kiss, her hand dropping from Kate's elbow to brush against the box hidden in her pocket. "Listen, Kate, I've been thinking…"

Kate's brows arched and her tongue stuck out between her teeth. "I thought I smelled smoke."

Despite the nerves starting to overtake her, Ricki met Kate's smirk with a squeeze of her hand. "I mean…look, I know we haven't been together that long, comparatively, but…I love you, Kate."

Kate's smile disappeared, and she squeezed Ricki's hand in return. "I love you too, Ricki."

"I've lost count of how many times the two of us have almost died since I started shadowing you," Ricki added with a hint of guilt in her voice. "And all I could think of since you took down Bracken is…what am I waiting for? What's holding me back?"

Butterflies started going crazy in Kate's stomach, and she swallowed the lump in her throat as she tightened her grip on Ricki's hand. This was it. This was really it. Martha had been right; more importantly, Kate hadn't imagined the end of that conversation. The detective fought to keep the smile off her face, not wanting to give away that she knew what was coming.

The breath caught in Kate's throat when she saw Ricki drop to a knee. A wave rolled in, dampening her lower right leg.

"Ricki…"

"Katherine Houghton Beckett," Ricki began, pulling the box out of her pocket and opening it to expose a gorgeous diamond ring, "will you marry me?"

Before Kate could answer, Ricki's phone went off, startling them both. Kate bit back a laugh as Ricki rolled her eyes and fished the phone out of her pocket, rolling her eyes and gritting her teeth as she pushed the ignore button. "Dammit, Espo…"

Kate smirked again as Ricki cleared her throat.

"Take two, Beckett?"

Kate dropped to her knees with as wide a smile as she had given in a long while, cupping Ricki's face in both hands as the two women shared a deep, long kiss. They rested foreheads against each other once the kiss broke, and Kate huffed an emotional laugh as Ricki slipped the ring onto her finger.

"Yes, Castle," she whispered before another kiss. "Yes, I will marry you."

They kissed again before Ricki helped Kate back to her feet. Their arms instantly slipped around each other's waists, and the two women stood in the wake of the ocean, letting the water cover their bare feet as they relished in the moment. Kate pulled out of the embrace just enough to stare at the ring on her hand.

"It's _big_."

"That, or you just have remarkably tiny fingers."

The two women kissed again, and when Kate's phone went off this time, they both rolled their eyes. Kate grabbed the device with a grunt, shaking her head before swiping her thumb over the screen.

"Ryan, forget the part where I'm on vacation?"

"_Come on, Beckett,_" Esposito chimed in,"_you know we wouldn't call if it wasn't important._"

Kate sighed and put her phone on speaker. "Then spill."

"_You and Ricki need to get back to the city. The Triple Killer is back._"

When Kate and Ricki locked eyes, the color left both of their faces. Ricki grabbed Kate's free hand, swallowing back the dread and shaking her head.

"Are you sure?"

"_Positive. And according to his former cellmate, 3XK made a new friend._"


	47. Chapter 47: Memory Lane

_**Author's Note: Today's chapter brings along with it a game called "Spot the Firefly reference," because like Nathan Fillion, I'm having fun sprinkling Firefly references into this fic from time to time. Oh, also read the chapter itself and leave a review, because I love that sort of thing. Thanks for the support and the reading!**_

* * *

_Three years ago…_

"I really hope you know what you're getting yourself into."

Steve the security guard was a nice enough man, prone to making small talk as he led visitors to the lounge area at Sing Sing. He had a dry sense of humor that snuck up on a lot of people, and he liked to say it was what kept him sane when he spent hours upon hours surrounded by the scum of the world.

And his warning was appreciated, even if the brunette walking beside him didn't think she necessarily needed it. Ricki Castle tightened her ponytail, cocking a sideways grin at Steve as he stopped fishing for his keys long enough to hold her notepad.

Satisfied with her hair, and straightening the collar on her royal blue button-down, Ricki took the notepad back from Steve. "An intense one-on-one interview with one of New York's most notorious serial killers," she said with a shrug. "Who, by the way, will be cuffed and chained to the floor."

Steve arched a gray eyebrow. "And if he breaks loose somehow?"

Ricki patted Steve on the back with a smirk as Steve unlocked the door leading into the visitor's lounge, sauntering past as the door swung open. "You've got a gun, don't you?"

Once Ricki entered the lounge, she saw a man sitting at the center table, shoulders hunched and orange jumpsuit hanging loosely off his frame. The room was dark, far darker than anywhere else in the facility. Ricki set down her notepad before shrugging off her black blazer and lowering herself into the seat across from the man. She then stared at the man with a frown before regarding Steve again.

"What's with the mask?" Ricki asked.

The man was wearing what appeared to be a black bag over his head, with only one hole in the center so he could breathe. Ricki twirled the pen between her fingers, cocking her head to the side until a stray length of hair came loose from her ponytail.

"Security purposes," Steve recited, as if it was what he had been told to say.

Ricki rolled her eyes and sat up. "Jesus Christ, Steve, I'm not interviewing Hannibal Lecter! Come on, off with the mask. I'd like to at least be able to understand what he says to me."

Steve approached, but didn't remove the mask. "You know who this is. You know what he's done."

"Yeah, and I also know I'm not his type," Ricki countered. "I'm not blonde, I'm not a runaway, I'm not a lost cause. So remove the mask, and if he gets a little too rowdy for your liking, just shoot him."

Steve quirked another brow. "Shoot him."

"You know…politely."

Resigned, Steve sighed and removed the black hood from over the other man. His head was lowered, his face still hidden from Ricki as Steve folded up the hood and wandered to the doorway, hand resting on the gun holstered to his hip. Ricki suppressed a smile, knowing she was in good hands.

Not only that, but being in the presence of a notorious serial killer, who had eluded police for almost a whole year before being brought in on something completely unrelated, gave Ricki a jolt of adrenaline. Part of her was tempted to simply write a tell-all about this man, but she decided her original business plan was probably most prudent.

"My name is Ricki Castle," she introduced. "I'm a novelist. Are you familiar with me?"

The man said nothing and did not move.

"Are you the Triple Killer?"

The man shrugged his left shoulder and mumbled. "I prefer 3XK."

"3XK," Ricki repeated, jotting the moniker onto her notepad. "Does have a certain ring to it. I mean, if you're gonna be a serial killer the likes of Bundy or Dahmer, guess you really need a name that's gonna stick out."

"It's not about the fame."

"Isn't it?" Ricki shrugged. "Then why give yourself a cool little nickname?"

"I don't want the world to know me," the man uttered. "Just my next victim. I want her looking over her shoulder as she crosses the street. I want the sound of the wind picking up to send a shiver down her spine. I want her to hear trash ruffling on the ground and think I'm just a step or two away."

"That's all well and good," Ricki countered, "but seeing as how you're serving the first of three consecutive life sentences, I don't think there are gonna be any more victims."

"Why are you here?" the man asked, head still bowed. "Looking to make me famous?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Ricki smiled. "_The Life and Times of 3XK: How One Man Managed to Terrorize New York City, All Thanks to the Patriarchy_."

The man finally looked up, his eyes wide. A week's worth of stubble dotted his cheeks, surrounding a goatee that was cropped as closely as the hair on his head. He looked ashen and malnourished – though that could've been the lighting – but his eyes sent a shiver down Ricki's spine.

"You have no idea who I am," he practically growled.

Ricki shrugged. "That's kinda why I'm here."

* * *

_Present day…_

As the doors to the elevator opened, dropping Kate and Ricki off at the Homicide floor, the detective slipped the ring off her finger and put it in her pocket. The two women exchanged a glance, having discussed on the drive back from the Hamptons that they would keep their engagement to themselves until the case had been solved.

Ricki hadn't been thrilled at the idea – she wanted to shout from atop her spacious home on the beach so the world could hear that she was going to make Katherine Beckett her wife – but she understood Kate's reasoning.

Before they could even get to Kate's desk, Detective Esposito approached, leather-bound notepad tucked under his right arm. "Sorry to cut your vacation short—"

"No, you're not," Ricki quipped. "Admit it, Javi. You missed me."

The look Esposito shot Ricki was withering, with far more disgust than the writer was used to. She visibly recoiled at it, shooting a look of confusion Kate's way. Kate, barely suppressing the urge to roll her eyes, glanced over Esposito's shoulder. She had neither the time nor the patience to deal with Esposito's passive-aggressive bullshit. "Where's Ryan?"

"In the box with 3XK."

The two women exchanged another look before Ricki quirked a brow. "Wait, you've got the Triple Killer _in custody_?"

"Oh, yeah." Esposito turned to give Ricki his full attention, raising his chin – and it almost looked like he was puffing out his chest too, though his entirely too-tight polo might've had something to do with that. "His old cellmate was in here earlier, and we were gettin' somewhere with him. He was very chatty. So chatty, in fact, your name came up."

Kate frowned and turned to Ricki. "What?"

Ricki sighed and her shoulders slumped. It was one thing to get that look from Esposito; it resembled the look he had often shot her way when she first started consulting with the Twelfth, and even though they had buried the proverbial hatchet, Ricki still expected to get the evil eye from time to time.

But the look Kate was giving her? A mixture of confusion, disbelief, and dread that made Ricki take a step back, made running away seem like a viable option. But whatever the two cops were thinking right now, running would only worsen their opinion of Ricki. So she sighed and stuffed her hands in her pockets.

"Three years ago," she explained, "I paid 3XK a visit at Sing Sing."

"Why?" Kate shook her head.

"I was doing research for _A Gathering Storm_. I wrote about a serial killer in that book, and I wanted to get a first-hand look at one."

"Wait," Kate pinched the bridge of her nose, "I read that book; the killer was nothing like 3XK."

"It wasn't about the Triple Killer specifically," Ricki said. "I just wanted some insight into the psychosis of a serial killer. What makes _them_ tick? Murder's murder, and the motives are almost always the same. But what about people who have no motive, who pile up the bodies seemingly on a whim?"

"Castle," Kate took a step forward, folding her arms over her chest, "are you _sure_ that's your only connection to 3XK?"

"Yes!" Ricki said, perhaps a little too insistent. But between Kate's question and the look Esposito continued to give her, the writer didn't care for the insinuation. "Why, what did the cellmate say?"

"Oh, not much," Esposito said, and it was clear that he was enjoying this too much for Ricki's liking, "just the fact that the Triple Killer was obsessed with you."

Ricki's stomach dropped and her hand immediately sought out Kate's. Their hands clasped together, and Ricki saw Esposito fight the urge to roll his eyes. So much for that progress they had apparently made. As cavalier as Ricki had been back then, when talking to 3XK was an exercise in amusement and fascination for her, this was less fun.

She didn't like the idea of a serial killer focused on her like that. Whether Ricki was 3XK's type or not, that wasn't the sort of person she wanted on her radar, and for the first time, Ricki regretted the fact that she ever talked to him.

Ricki walked straight toward the observation room before either Kate or Esposito could say anything. Kate followed closely, glancing over her shoulder at Esposito. "Didn't 3XK get, like, three life sentences? Why are we digging this whole thing up again?"

"Body was found on the Lower East Side two nights ago," he explained. "Same M.O. as 3XK. Next night, we got a tip that Marcus Gates was on the streets, but when we called over to Sing Sing, they didn't know anything. He hadn't been signed out, no signs of escape, nothing."

Kate frowned, not just at how weird that was but also at Detective Esposito's behavior. So when she got to the door to the observation room, she stopped, turned on the balls of her feet, and pressed an open palm to Esposito's chest.

"What?"

Kate glared at him in the most menacing way she could, shaking her head. "Back off, Javier."

"What, the fact that your girlfriend was palling around with a serial killer doesn't bother you?"

"It does," Kate said, "but you're acting like she was his accomplice, and I can't have you throwing that sort of attitude around when none of us really know what's going on. Go home, Espo."

Esposito's face contorted in anger. "You can't –"

"Go _home_, Javi. I'm not gonna tell you again."

Kate turned into the observation room before Esposito could protest, letting the anger roll off her shoulders as she shut the door behind her. She could hear Detective Ryan over the intercom conducting his interview, but judging from his question, she couldn't tell exactly where they were in the proceedings.

But once Kate looked up and saw the look on Ricki's face, panic began to set in.

Ricki stood at the two-way mirror, her hands wrapped so tightly around the railing along the wall that her knuckles were white. Her face had also gone pale, and Kate could see her arms trembling. Kate approached with caution, slowly trailing her fingers along Ricki's arm until she could rest her palm on her girlfriend's shoulder.

Kate let her eyes glance over to the mirror, watching Ryan interviewing Marcus Gates.

"Castle," Kate whispered, but Ricki didn't respond.

"_Wait, are you telling me that you're also responsible for the murder of Shannon Easton?_"

"_That's correct._"

"_But she was murdered while you were still behind bars._"

"_What can I say, Detective? I'm just that good._"

"Castle," Kate tried again, her voice more insistent this time. "What's wrong?"

As Ricki tore her gaze from the two-way, still shaking, Kate could see the dread in her eyes. On instinct, the detective's hand went for Ricki's, and she squeezed in the vain hope that she could get the shaking to stop.

"Ricki…"

The writer glanced at the two-way again. "Kate, you…you've got the wrong man."

Kate frowned, turning her gaze to the two-way mirror.

"That man is not the Triple Killer."


	48. Chapter 48: Obsession

_**Author's Note: I appreciate everyone's support and patience with me as I wade through this fic and all the others I write. Reviews are love!**_

* * *

"What do you mean that's not 3XK?"

"Exactly what I said." Ricki pointed through the glass. "That man, sitting right there? That's not the Triple Killer. That is not the man I interviewed for book research three years ago."

Kate stared a hole through the two-way mirror, watching Marcus Gates jotting down his confession onto a yellow legal pad as Detective Ryan watched. She felt a sick realization churning in her stomach, shaking her head and opening her mouth – only to find that the words stuck on the tip of her tongue wouldn't come.

The detective glanced at her fiancée again, shaking her head and reaching out to grab Ricki's hand. The writer squeezed in response, a seriousness in her eyes that Kate seldom saw.

Without breaking her gaze, Kate tapped on the window to get Ryan's attention. "Castle, who is 3XK?"

Before Ricki could answer, Detective Ryan walked into the observation room, a seemingly permanent crease furrowed into his brow as he glanced over his shoulder and shut the door. "Uh…what's going on, guys?"

Ricki shook her head. "That's not 3XK."

"Um, Castle?" Ryan quirked a brow, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Did you miss the part where Gates just confessed to all of the murders?"

"It's not him," Ricki insisted. "Three years ago, I sat down with 3XK for an interview. I was researching serial killer psychology in preparation for one of my Derrick Storm novels, and I'm telling you, _that_ was not the man I talked to."

"Okay," Kate said, placing an arm on Ricki's shoulder to keep her calm. "So who's 3XK?"

"His name's Jerry Tyson."

Ryan and Kate exchanged a panicked look before Ryan opened the door to the observation room and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Kate grabbed the door, holding on so tightly that her knuckles turned white, her heartbeat thudding against her ribcage.

"Ryan, get Esposito back here and call the protective detail we have on Tyson's motel. Tell them to make sure he doesn't go anywhere!"

"Already on it!"

"Castle," Kate added, out of breath as she shut the door to the observation room again, trying to ignore the smug grin on Marcus Gates' face in the interrogation room. "Jerry Tyson's out of prison."

"What?" Ricki shook her head. "That's impossible. He's serving three life sentences!"

Before Ricki could answer, movement from the other side of the glass caught her eye. She looked over to see Marcus Gates staring directly in her direction now, a smug grin on his stubbled face and the slicked-back hair curling around the backs of his ears.

"Has the writer shown up yet?" Gates asked, hands clasped together on the table.

Ricki's heart skipped a beat, and she squeezed Kate's hand in her own so tightly that she could feel the sweat forming on her lover's palm. Ricki felt sick to her stomach, unable to tear her gaze from the smug, self-satisfied man sitting on the other side of the glass. Here he was, trying to take the fall for crimes Jerry Tyson has already committed and being convicted of, and he knew Ricki was consulting with the police.

Which probably meant Tyson knew, too. Ricki felt Kate's arm snake around her waist, still unable to tear her gaze from the glass. Ricki had to talk to him. She knew it was a bad idea; she knew Kate would never let her in the box alone with that man. But she had to do it. She had to know where Tyson was. She had to know why the man was so fixated on her.

"I'm going in there," she said, letting go of her grip on Kate and leaving the observation room before the detective had a chance to protest. She knew Kate was following closely behind, though, and that was fine with her.

Ricki needed to talk to Gates. If Kate was sitting beside her while she did, so be it.

Gates' face lit up in a disgusting way when Ricki pushed her way into the interrogation room, Kate right on her heels. As Ricki grabbed for the empty chair, turning it around and hooking her legs on either side of the seat, Gates smirked and shook his head. "Ah, _there_ you are. Ricki Castle…I have heard _so much_ about you. I almost feel like I know you myself."

"Where's Jerry Tyson?" Ricki asked in as serious a tone as she could muster.

"Rotting in prison, I would imagine," Gates answered with a shrug.

"You're lying," Ricki said, sitting up a little straighter even as Kate grabbed her shoulder. The touch grounded the writer, who admittedly was not the master interrogator her fiancée was. "We know he's out. We don't know how he managed it, but he did. And he's going to kill again, Marcus."

"And what do you plan on doing about it?" Gates shrugged again. "You can't arrest anyone. You can't detain anyone. Technically, you're not even supposed to be interrogating me. So why not just sit back and let your pretty little toy over here run around in circles with me?"

Something dark flashed in Ricki's eyes, and she balled her hands into tight fists to keep from reaching across the table. Her nails dug into her palms, and Ricki shook with the deep breath she took. "Because to hear you tell it, Tyson's obsessed with _me_, not Detective Beckett."

"Oh, please," Gates scoffed. "Like you've never dealt with an obsessed fan before."

"My fans don't make a habit of strangling and killing women," Ricki practically growled from between her teeth, her jaw tightly set. "So if it's an autograph Tyson wants, I'm afraid he's out of luck."

"Oh, I think it's more than that," Gates said with a dark chuckle.

Before either Ricki or Kate could pry any further, the door to the interrogation room opened again, a panicked Detective Ryan holding onto the doorknob so tightly that his knuckles were white. Ricki stood up when she saw the look on Ryan's face, and before Kate had a chance to ask him what was wrong, he shook his head.

"Uniforms found Samantha Turner," he said. "Jerry Tyson killed her."

* * *

_The Star Motel…_

Rundown and seedy as the Star Motel was, it was still the perfect hiding spot for Jerry Tyson. If nothing else, the manager's desire to be left alone meant one could get away with just about anything without being bothered. The entirely too painful BSDM session going on in room 147 was evidence of that, since Tyson could hear the screams before he even pulled into the parking lot.

The rope burns still stung the palms of Tyson's hands as he hid in the shadows, eagerly awaiting the police. He knew word would spread quickly of Samantha Turner's death, and he knew it was only a matter of time before the NYPD put two and two together, realizing the man they had in the box wasn't the Triple Killer.

Most criminals feared being caught; the notion sent a jolt of adrenaline down Tyson's spine. He licked his lips and rubbed his hands together, hoping against all hope that the pretty detective he had heard about but hadn't yet met – Beckett, he thought her name was – would be the one to show up.

Only his interest wasn't so much in Beckett as her unorthodox partner.

The sirens wailed in the distance, growing closer until the red and blue lights blinded him, tires squealing against the pavement as an unmarked cruiser and two police cars came to an abrupt halt. Uniforms spilled out of those vehicles, using their doors as shields as they drew their weapons.

Sure enough, Detective Beckett rushed out of the driver's side of the unmarked car, gun cradled in both of her hands. The Irish detective was in lockstep with her, and Tyson grinned ear-to-ear when he saw the dark-haired woman emerging from the back seat, wearing a navy blue vest labeled WRITER.

That woman hung back as the two detectives stormed up the steps to the second floor, undoubtedly to the room where Samantha's lifeless body was splayed out on the ratty mattress. Tyson waited until he heard the door being kicked open before slipping from the shadows, silent on his feet as he grabbed Ricki by the arm, cupping his right hand over her mouth before dragging her to the back of the property near the swimming pool.

Tyson pressed the barrel of the gun he'd had tucked into the back waistband of his pants against Ricki's forehead, making sure she understood what it meant before removing the hand that had been cupping her mouth. He sneered at the feat in her eyes, giddy with schoolboy-like excitement when she squirmed against the diving board.

"Ricki!" he beamed. "So nice to see you again. How ya been?"

"Fuck you, Tyson," Ricki spat, arching her back off the diving board in an attempt to free herself.

"Ah ah ah," Tyson shook his head and wrapped the hand that had been cupping Ricki's mouth around her neck. He didn't squeeze or add any pressure, but Tyson did cock his gun. "Is that any way to greet an old friend?"

"I don't hang out with serial killers."

"See, I think you do," Tyson argued, moving his hand from Ricki's neck to grab a tuft of her hair, yanking on it until she sat up with a yelp. He kept the gun pressed against her forehead. "Maybe not day to day, but come on…I read that book, Ricki. The one you interviewed me for? As research?"

"Great," Ricki joked without any humor. "I'll get you to write a blurb for the back cover on the next run of paperbacks."

"You're _obsessed_ with death," Tyson whispered, pressing the barrel of his gun harder into Ricki's forehead, smiling a little when she cringed. "You're drawn to death. You like to be around it, cause it _thrills_ you. Interviewing me, shadowing the city's prettiest homicide cop, making millions and millions of dollars killing fictitious people for a living…now where does that come from? Your own suppressed impulses? If I were to dig into that pretty little head of yours, would I see another me in there?"

Tyson lifted the gun over his head, pulling the trigger and laughing when Ricki flinched. He knew the noise would draw the attention of the detectives upstairs – if they hadn't already noticed that their pet writer was no longer behind them – but the game was just too much fun not to play.

"How close to death do you wanna get? Hm?"

"Really, Jerry?" Ricki sat up a little straighter, a wave of bravado overtaking her despite the red ring on her forehead from where the gun had been. "Shooting? That's so not your style."

Tyson's jaw clenched and he tightened his grip on the gun. "You don't know me at all."

"It's really not that complicated," Ricki said with a shrug. "You were raised by a single mother. She was blonde – oh, and _beautiful_. But she wanted nothing to do with you – don't look at me like that, you're transparent as hell when it comes to her." The writer straightened her posture. "First time I ever mentioned her, the fire that lit up in your eyes was so bright I could've made s'mores."

"You like playing psychologist as much as you like death," Tyson snarled.

"You have _so much_ hate," Ricki added. "So much hate toward your mother for abandoning you. So you kill those women to get back at her. But you leave them looking peaceful, because as much as you hated your mother, you loved your mother."

Tyson's eyes widened, and he raised his gun over his head. "You shut your fucking—"

"Castle?!"

The sound of Detective Beckett's voice in the distance stopped Jerry Tyson before he could bring the butt of his weapon down across Ricki's face. Instead, the anger in his eyes gave way to an unnerving grin as he pocketed the gun and leaned down to press a hard, sloppy kiss to the writer's forehead, grabbing Ricki by the arm when she recoiled.

"I've enjoyed our little reunion," he whispered. "Trust me when I say, we'll do this again. Real soon."

By the time Ricki gathered her bearings again, regaining her footing and wiping at her forehead so vigorously that the skin turned red, Jerry Tyson was gone. Ricki crossed to the other side of the pool, studying her surroundings only to find no sign of the serial killer. Her hands balled into fists, rage filling Ricki unlike anything she had felt in a long while.

That rage mixed with guilt, and the potent combination swirled in Ricki's gut that she almost doubled over and heaved the contents of her stomach into the pool, but the feel of Kate's hand on her elbow steadied the writer, and she heaved a sigh of relief at the contact.

"Beckett…"

"What happened, Castle?" Kate had her weapon drawn, looking over Ricki's shoulder. "Where's Tyson?"

"He's," Ricki started, shaking her head and struggling to regain her breath, adrenaline giving way to fatigue and fear, "he's gone…"

Detective Ryan had scanned the area as well before holstering his service piece and approaching the pair. "No sign of him anywhere," he said. "We'll put out an APB on him and alert TSA, train stations, bus depots…we'll find him."

"No, we won't," Ricki said. "He's already hiding. We'll find him again when he wants found."

Ricki sat at the edge of the pool as Detective Ryan wandered off to direct two uniformed officers and the CSU unit that had arrived on the scene. She stared into the illuminated water, feeling the emotion burning in her eyes as Kate sat next to her. Their feet were submerged in the cold water, and Ricki shivered.

"Hey," Kate reached out and took Ricki's hand into her own, "we'll get him."

"Not if he gets me first," Ricki said, her voice cracking. "This isn't about the murders anymore, Kate. He's turned his focus to me, and he's not gonna stop until I'm either destroyed or dead."

"Then we'll make sure that doesn't happen," Kate insisted. "You're about to marry a cop. Two of your best friends are cops. We'll put a protective detail on Martha and Alexis until we finally bring Tyson down once and for all."

Ricki's eyes never broke from the pool, even as tears started rolling down her cheeks.

Kate scooted a little closer, tightening her grip on her fiancée. The detective leaned in and gave Ricki's shoulder a soft, reverent kiss, glad to have Detective Ryan handling things instead of Esposito, because the latter would be all over the two of them demanding answers. Ryan, at least, had the decency to give them a few moments.

"I don't know why he didn't kill me right here, Beckett."

Kate reached for Ricki's cheek and turned her head until the two women faced each other, giving her a soft, chaste kiss full of all the love she had to give in her heart. When the kiss broke, her lips curled into a smile, yet there was a ferocity in her eyes that made Ricki's heart flutter.

"I don't know, either…but let's make sure Jerry Tyson regrets that choice."


	49. Chapter 49: Paranoia

_Ricki's loft…_

As soon as Ricki had given her statement of what happened at the Star Motel earlier that night, she immediately left the Twelfth. Despite the pang of sympathy and guilt Kate felt, she let her fiancée go, both because she still had a few loose ends to attend to and she knew Ricki needed the time to decompress.

Kate could only imagine what it was like to be the object of a psychopath's obsession. She hoped she would never have to discover first-hand what that was like.

More than anything, though, Kate just wanted to be there for Ricki. She pushed her way into the loft, closing the door as quietly as she could in case anyone was asleep. The clock read fifteen minutes after three in the morning; in a way, it was a minor miracle that Kate herself was still awake.

The lights were on in the kitchen, and Kate hung her jacket over the railing of the stairwell before fishing the ring Ricki gave her at the Hamptons out of her pocket and slipping it onto her finger. Both the kitchen and the living room were empty, as was Ricki's office.

"Castle?" she called out.

Silence greeted Kate at first, and she frowned at that. But a creaking sound from upstairs caught her attention, and Kate slipped her right hand to the waistband of her jeans. She still had her service piece on her – just in case – and Kate made her way quietly up the stairs, silently glad that she wasn't wearing her trademark heels.

As soon as Kate reached the second floor, though, she released her grip on her weapon and exhaled with a frown. Ricki was standing at the doorway to Alexis' bedroom, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed over her chest. In the silence of the night, Kate could hear small sniffles.

By the time she reached Ricki's side, placing a hand on the dark-haired woman's shoulder, Kate could see the streaks on Ricki's face. Kate rested her chin on Ricki's shoulder, slipping her arms around the writer's waist. Kate turned her head, taking in the sight of a sleeping Alexis, the teenager's red hair splayed across the pillow in a picture of calm and innocence.

The sight brought a lump to Kate's throat; she wasn't as close to Alexis as she liked – partly because their schedules conflicted so much that they rarely had the time she wanted to spend – but if the night's ordeal had moved Ricki to the point that she was watching her daughter sleep, even as emotion ran her ragged…Kate squeezed her eyes shut and tightened her arms around Ricki.

"I can't let him at her," Ricki whispered with a shake of her head. "He can do whatever the hell he wants to me, but I will be _damned_ if I let 3XK anywhere near my daughter."

Kate's heart clenched and she forced herself to open her eyes. "Did he threaten her?"

Ricki shook her head. "He didn't have to. He's obsessed with me, and that means we're all in danger. Me, Mother, Alexis…even you."

"Why do you think we put that protective detail on the building?" Kate countered. "He won't get to you, Ricki. I'll make sure of it."

"I just…" Ricki sighed and unfolded her arms, turning to look at her fiancée, smiling gently despite the tears brimming in her eyes when she saw the ring on Kate's finger. "I keep thinking, what if I hadn't gone to see him? What if I had found some other way to get what I needed for my book?"

"Ricki, no, stop." Kate took Ricki's hand into her own, gently pulling her away from her daughter's bedroom. They made it to the top of the stairwell before Kate turned toward her lover once more, tracing her finger's over Ricki's jawline. "Please don't do this."

Ricki frowned. "Do what?"

"Don't blame yourself for what happened." Kate shook her head. "You had no way of knowing back then that he'd get out and focus his attention on you. The man was serving three life sentences in one of New York's most secure prisons."

"Yet he still got out."

"That's not your fault, either." Kate took Ricki by both hands, squeezing them before leaning in for a soft kiss. "We've got his mugshot out all over the city. TSA has it, so if he tries to flee, he'll be spotted. Three of our best uniforms are downstairs, protecting this building around the clock. And need I remind you that your fiancée sleeps with a gun?"

With a sniffle, Ricki broke into a grin so large that it lit up her eyes. "Fiancée…I like that."

"I do too. Now, c'mon…let's go to bed."

* * *

_Two weeks later…_

Ricki was thankful – both for the fact that their lives had returned to some semblance of normal after the 3XK ordeal and for the fact that there was another case to work. She was having a hard time with the edits for _Heat Rises_, and one of the early chapters had been giving her fits. Though she felt somewhat guilty for being so giddy about a new case – because new case meant a new dead body – Ricki appreciated the reprieve.

"I just don't understand how I can still write boring crime scenes," she said as she followed Kate into the apartment, ducking under yellow crime scene tape and slapping on a pair of baby blue gloves. "I've been to plenty of them, you'd think I'd be able to write that sort of thing in my sleep by now."

"Maybe this will inspire you, Castle," Detective Esposito approached the pair, studying the clipboard in his hand. Pretty damn freaky. Vic's name is Tessa Horton, 29 years old. Roommate came home from a week away, found her up there."

Both Kate and Ricki followed Esposito's finger pointing toward the ceiling, noticing the barbed wire hanging there. The two women then exchanged a glance before approaching the victim's body, which had been moved to the sofa. A large pool of dried blood stained the carpet, and a disturbing symbol had been etched into Tessa's forehead.

"What the fuck?" Ricki shook her head. "Who puts a body on the ceiling?"

"Beats me," Lanie Parish said, rising from her crouched position by the body. "But I'm probably not gonna sleep for weeks. Looks like something out of one of your books."

As Ricki cringed, Kate shook her head. "Cause of death?"

"Based on ligature marks, I'd say strangulation."

"What about the symbol?" Ricki asked.

"Non-lethal," Esposito explained. "Looks like it was made with some kind of razor. Do you recognize it?"

"No, it's just…" Ricki shook her head. "The killer seems to have gone through a lot of trouble. They could've easily just…strangled Tessa and been done with it. But the carving on the forehead, the hoisting her onto the ceiling – which, by the way, couldn't have been easy – clearly, we're dealing with someone who had a point to make."

"And the time to make it," Kate added. "Almost as if whoever killed Tessa knew the roommate was out of town."

"Which means the victim probably knew our killer," Esposito chimed in.

"Hey, guys," Detective Ryan entered the apartment. "Just checked with CSU. They found prints in the hallway, but the apartment is spotless. Almost like it was wiped down."

Casting a sideways glance at her fiancée, Kate suppressed a smirk. "Definitely not boring."

* * *

_The Twelfth…_

Ricki examined the white dry-erase board situated beside Kate's desk, shaking her head and cocking it to the side. "This doesn't make any sense. The ritualistic symbol on her forehead, the way the body was staged, the care with which the killer wiped away the apartment…this has all the hallmarks of a serial killing."

"Only there's nothing in any database matching this M.O." Kate flung herself into her chair with an exhausted sigh, grabbing for her navy blue NYPD mug and grimacing when she saw that it was empty. "Ryan, where are we on that symbol?"

"Same place we were when we left the crime scene." Kevin Ryan shook his head. "It's not in any of the federal databases. Phone records have gotten us nowhere. Tessa's emails have given us nothing. I've got Tori over in Tech scrubbing the hard drive, but I doubt we'll find anything."

"CSU's report came back, though," Esposito entered the bullpen, brandishing a manila folder and glaring at Ricki as he approached Kate's desk. Ignoring the writer's look of confusion and annoyance, he handed the folder to Kate. "You're gonna wanna see this."

Kate flipped open the folder and her eyes quickly scanned the text before he head shot back up and she glared at Esposito. "No…"

Esposito shrugged. "'Fraid so."

Ricki took her spot in the chair next to Kate's desk, furrowing her brow. "What is it?"

"It…" Kate shook her head, her mouth hung open, like she was suddenly at a loss for words. "This says the prints they found in the hallway belong to you, Castle."

"Me?" Ricki sat up a little straighter, glancing up at Esposito and not at all liking the glare he was fixing her way. "But…that's gotta be a mistake."

"Really." Esposito was clearly unmoved. "You sure about that?"

Huffing a sigh of frustration and shrugging her shoulders, Ricki shook her head. "Okay, _maybe_ I brushed my hand against the wall when we were on our way to the apartment."

Esposito shook his head. "CSU report says those prints were there before you got there."

"Well, it's obvious CSU made a mistake," Kate cut in, handing the file back to Esposito and shooting him as menacing a glare as she could. "Castle, just…be more careful at crime scenes from now on, okay?"

Ricki nodded.

"And Espo?" Another glare. "Go with Ryan and check on the status of that hard drive."

* * *

_Ricki's loft…_

"I'm sorry," Ricki said as they shut the door, shrugging off her coat. "I didn't even realize I'd touched anything."

"It's okay." Kate tossed her jacket onto the railing of the stairwell before turning to face her fiancée, cupping her cheek. "I'm more upset over Espo's attitude about the whole thing. I thought you two had buried the hatchet?"

All Ricki could do was shrug at that, because she had thought everything was fine between them as well. But she couldn't really say anything about it, because she had the impression that Esposito's unrequited feelings for Kate were a secret, and the last thing Ricki wanted to do was air that out and make things awkward.

His attitude aside, Ricki liked Detective Esposito. He was a good cop, loyal to everyone with whom he served – well, loyal to those with a badge, anyway. There were moments when he showed just what he was capable of, but there were also times when Esposito was spiteful and petty.

This was one of those times.

"Well, if he's gonna be mad at me for contaminating a crime scene," Ricki said, crossing into the kitchen to fetch two wine glasses and a bottle of red wine – the kind that Ricki knew would put Kate in a certain mood, "then I can't really hold that against him."

"Still," Kate argued, sitting on one of the stools. "He could've gone about it differently."

Ricki poured them each a glass of wine before raising hers for a toast. When the glasses clinked together, Kate leaned in for a quick kiss before they both took their first sip. The loft was quiet, with Alexis spending the night at a friend's place, and Ricki was thankful for the reprieve.

That reprieve didn't last long, though, as Kate's phone chimed. Ricki frowned as she checked her watch, noting that it was almost midnight.

Kate cringed when she saw the message from Esposito: _Get here ASAP – come alone._

"I'm sorry, babe," Kate said, taking one last sip of wine before leaning in for another kiss – hovering in Ricki's personal space because she enjoyed the taste of her fiancée's lips mixed with red wine. "I gotta go back."

"It's fine," Ricki whispered with a smile. "I need to re-write that crime scene anyway."

"I love you," Kate said as she gave Ricki's hand a squeeze before heading toward the door. "And I will _so_ make this up to you."

"I'll hold you to that," Ricki said with a smirk before taking another sip. "Love you too."

As soon as Kate shut the door behind her, the smile she'd had morphed into a scowl, both because she didn't appreciate being called back to the precinct at this late hour and the fact that she was still mad at Esposito. She called his number as she jabbed at the button to summon the elevator, clenching her jaw.

"This better be damn good," she said once the call connected.

"_Time was, you'd sleep at the precinct if you could,_" Esposito said on the other end. "_And I wouldn't call this good. But it's something you definitely need to see._"

"How bad is it?"

"_There's a reason I asked you to come alone._"


	50. Chapter 50: Boiling Point

_**Author's Note: So much fun re-imagining Probable Cause like this (such a great episode, and it helps that I re-watched it last night, thanks to TNT syndication). Hope everyone enjoys; please leave a review if you did! Also, please give my other fics Aftermath and Not Just a Cop a read.**_

* * *

_The Twelfth…_

"Alright, Espo, this better be good."

Detective Esposito glared at Kate Beckett when she barged into the media hub located across from the captain's office, a glass box that housed several flatscreen monitors and all manner of technological equipment that could splice sound, chop up video, and somehow catch a person's face off a reflection in the background of a photograph.

"Security footage from a jewelry store two blocks from Tessa's apartment three days ago," Esposito explained, hitting a button on the remote in his hand before tossing it aside.

As the black-and-white video began to play, angled from the ceiling in the far corner, Kate heard the door to the media hub close. She watched the victim, Tessa, approach the counter accompanied by another woman – roughly the same height, slender build, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail.

The woman in question was wearing a dark sportcoat, and when she turned her head more toward the camera, Kate's heart skipped a beat and her mouth went dry. She looked _just_ like Ricki. Kate shook her head, barely even paying attention to Esposito.

"CSU found an earring on the couch this morning," he explained with an angry expression. "We traced it to this store, which is when we found this."

"You're wrong." Kate shook her head and began pacing. "You're _wrong_, Javi! That's not Castle!"

"The hell it isn't," he snarled in return. "We ran Castle's financials."

"You ran—"

"She paid for those earrings with a 12,000-dollar cashiers check, and there's a withdrawal from her account earlier that day."

Kate stared across the glass, thankful that Captain McNulty wasn't in his office at this late hour. She shook her head, tears building in her eyes as her hands balled into fists. "No," she argued. "No. Javi, you're wrong. You're dead wrong. That's not her!"

"Is it?" Esposito reached for a manila folder sitting atop the main video console, slapping it on the table in front of Kate. "Then how do you explain all this?"

Kate stared at the folder without opening it. "What is that?"

"I had Tori run a remote-access sweep of Castle's computer—"

"You had _no_ fucking right—"

"Castle was exchanging emails with Tessa. Explicit emails, detailing an affair that goes back three weeks. Meet-ups, addresses for random hotels, Castle begging Tessa to keep things quiet because she was seeing someone."

Tears ran down Kate's face, even as she shook her head. "No…"

Esposito closed the distance, practically hovering over Kate as his nostrils flared and his finger jabbed hard against the folder. "That writer has been cheating on you, Beckett! And to top it all off, she starts writing a fucking _murder scene_ almost identical to how we found Tessa's body!"

"No!" Kate pushed Esposito away before grabbing the folder and tossing it across the room. She ignored the papers that spilled onto the floor, approaching Esposito and jabbing her finger into his chest. "You're _wrong_! How many times do I have to say it?!"

"Dammit, Beckett, look at the evidence!" Esposito was yelling now, and Kate was even more thankful that they were alone in the precinct. "That bitch has been two-timing you!"

No sooner did the words leave Esposito's mouth, Kate's open palm smacked against his cheek. Despite his size advantage over her, the blow sent Esposito staggering a little bit, fire in his eyes once he regained his composure, hand cupped to his face.

"Girl, you best be glad—"

"Drop it, Espo!" Kate reached out and grabbed Esposito by his collar, twisting him until he was pushed back against the wall. Kate's face was red and splotchy from tears, and her knuckles turned white because of how tightly she had Esposito's shirt twisted in her grasp. Her eyes flared and her teeth gnashed together.

"You're the one who always says _follow the evidence_," Esposito argued.

"Easy to say when the evidence makes someone you hate look bad."

"This has nothing to do with—"

"Stuff it, Esposito." Kate's jaw tightened before she let go of Esposito's shirt. "You've made your feelings about Castle clear from day one."

"Because I knew she'd do this to you."

Kate shook her head and smirked, even as she swiped under her eyes. "That's not it." She rolled her eyes when Esposito shot her a confused expression. "Oh, come on, Javier. Everyone knows. You haven't been fooling anyone for a long time, least of all me."

"How—"

"You spend your days surrounded by cops," Kate argued with a shrug. "People who are paid to notice things."

"You know what? Fine." Esposito's jaw clenched. "I have feelings for you. Okay? Happy now? Because that doesn't change the fact that all of the evidence points to Castle as our murderer. We have evidence of an affair, evidence of Castle having been at the crime scene…we even have motive because Tessa threatened to take the affair public. What more do you want, Beckett?"

"I want you to dig deeper," Kate said. "I know what the evidence says, but I also know my fiancée well enough to know that she isn't capable of anything like this. There's an explanation for this, and I want you to find it."

Esposito blinked, his shoulder slumping. "Fiancée…?"

"Find it!"

Before Esposito could respond, Kate flung the door to the media hub open, left the room, and slammed the door shut.

* * *

_Ricki's loft…_

After two hours, the imaginary crime scene was just as drab and uninspiring as it had been on the first draft. Ricki pinched the bridge of her nose and grabbed for her coffee mug – only to discover it was empty when porcelain met her lips. She sighed and shook her head, rising from her desk with a glance at the clock.

_Beckett should be home by now_, she thought before shrugging her shoulders and wandering into the kitchen for a refill. Whatever she was called back to the precinct for must have been a big deal, and Ricki hoped they were close to making an arrest.

She poured herself another mug of coffee, smiling when she took her first sip. It was one of those random _that woman is my fiancée_ moments she'd had since returning from the Hamptons. Even with the stress and the tension surrounding 3XK's escape and subsequent disappearance, Ricki couldn't help but occasionally feel downright giddy over the fact that the love of her life wanted to marry her.

It was surreal in so many ways, and not just because Kate hadn't been that fond of her when they first met. This was going to be Ricki's third marriage, and the build-up to it already felt so much different than with either Martin or George.

Ricki returned to her office, which was pitch black, aside from the lamp on her desk allowing her to see the keyboard as she typed. She lowered herself into the chair with a sigh, cringing at the sight of the blinking cursor before taking another sip. Setting the mug aside, Ricki cracked her knuckles and positioned them over the keyboard, ready to tackle this scene again.

But a creaking sound stopped her. Ricki's eyes scanned her surroundings; even though her office was dark, she could see into her bedroom and out into the living room and kitchen area – one of the benefits and drawbacks of bookshelves acting as walls. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, and Ricki's logical side (yes, such a thing exists) told her it was just something in the building settling.

But the sound returned.

"Kate?" Ricki craned her neck. "Kate, is that you?"

"Sorry, Kate's not here," a familiar voice called out from the darkness, making Ricki's blood run cold. Jerry Tyson emerged from the shadows, dressed completely in black, wearing the same expression he had that night at the Star Motel.

For the first time in a long time, Ricki cursed the fact that she wasn't carrying.

"Tyson."

The man shrugged. "I prefer 3XK. But then again, you already know that."

Ricki's hands balled into fists, even as she kept still in her chair. Her shoulders hunched and Ricki could feel the tension in the small of her back, her mouth going dry and her heart rate quickening. She had suddenly lost her taste for coffee. "Where's Beckett?"

"At the precinct." Tyson shrugged and smiled. "And before you ask, your daughter is still upstairs, asleep. I'm not here for them, Rebecca. I'm here for you."

The sound of 3XK using her given name was enough to make Ricki gag, an urge she fought against with a deep intake of air and a tightening of her fists – to the point that her nails were starting to dig into her palms. "Are you here to kill me?"

"No," Tyson shook his head. "Well…not yet."

"Oh, so psychopaths run on a schedule now."

Tyson turned his attention to the bookshelves behind him, finding the hardcover editions of both _Heat Wave_ and _Naked Heat_, gingerly running his finger along the spines. A knowing smirk crossed his pale face before he glanced Ricki's way again. "Right now, Beckett is discovering evidence that links you to Tessa Horton."

Cold realization coursed through Ricki. "You…"

"Evidence that you two were having an affair. A tawdry, secret affair. Tessa had never been treated so well in her life. That is, until she wanted to go public, let everyone know about this amazing woman she'd met. But you couldn't have that, not after the rock you put on Detective Beckett's finger."

"Motive," Ricki muttered, practically under her breath.

"Not to mention a money trail that leads to a jewelry store where you bought Tessa a very pretty pair of earrings. Not to mention the emails detailing your affair. Not to mention your fingerprints at the crime scene." Tyson chuckled and shook his head. "Not to mention the crime scene you were writing about that was almost identical to how the police found Tessa's body. You've been killing people in your books for years, Rebecca. No one would be all that surprised if you suddenly started doing it in real life."

"Beckett would."

"Which is why showing her all that evidence is so key." Tyson approached Ricki's desk, the shadows from the lamp covering half of his face in darkness, even though his eyes pierced through the black. "Any minute now, she'll be down here with a couple uniforms to slap the cuffs on you. And not like that one night in the Hamptons."

"Awful lot of trouble, Tyson," Ricki said, trying desperately to contain her anger and dread, even as her heart thudded violently against her ribcage. "This how you have your fun?"

"Oh, this was fun, don't get me wrong." Tyson's smile grew, which only made Ricki's blood boil. "Getting inside your life. Watching you and your daughter walking in the park. Watching you and Beckett in bed together. Standing in the middle of your living room, seeing just how beautiful a life you've built for yourself, knowing that I'll bring it all crashing down."

"Why?" Ricki shrugged. "What is this, Tyson? Revenge?"

"Do you know how hard it was to break out of prison?" Tyson asked, starting to pace. "All that planning, all that waiting…then to get out and go into hiding, just waiting for the perfect moment to strike again…only to have you fuck it all up."

"So if that's how it is, why not just kill me?"

"Well, where's the fun in that?" Tyson stopped, hovering over Ricki's desk, shadows from the lamp completely obscuring his face. "I don't wanna kill you, Rebecca. I just…it's so much more fun to _destroy_ you."

"That's cute. But you're forgetting one very important thing."

"Beckett's devotion to you? Nah, I took that into account. Why do you think the evidence is so air-tight? She'll have no choice but to arrest you. She'll have no choice but to think she came _this close_ to marrying a psychopath."

Ricki shook her head. "She'll find a way to the truth."

"Maybe." Tyson shrugged. "But by the time she does, the DA will have already pressed charges against you and moved you to Central Booking. See, I have people there, waiting for you. You won't last the night. So Beckett will live the rest of her life with the knowledge that she couldn't save you. That will be her punishment."

Before Ricki could say anything, the sound of the front door opening interrupted them both. Tyson's smile grew again, and he leaned in until his face was inches from Ricki's. She could smell his aftershave, and it almost made her gag.

"That's my cue. See you soon, Castle."

Before Ricki could get out of her chair, Tyson disappeared. She bolted for her bedroom, only to find the room empty. The en-suite was also empty. The writer re-traced her steps through her office, ignoring the cold shiver running down her spine, before she wandered out of her office and into the living room.

Kate stood in the doorway, her face red and eyes burning. She locked eyes with Ricki once the writer emerged from her office, shaking her head and sniffling. She approached her fiancée slowly, purposefully breaking eye contact, before stopping just out of arm's reach.

"Beckett…"

"Castle," Kate's voice cracked, and she held up a manila folder, "we need to talk."

"I know." Ricki's shoulders slumped, and the nauseous feeling in her gut that had been there since Jerry Tyson showed up intensified. Ricki grabbed the back of a chair to keep herself steady, shaking her head. "Kate, listen to me—"

"No, Castle." Kate shook her head and swiped at a tear. "Sit down."

Ricki did sit in the chair, running her hands through her hair and heaving a weary sigh. "Kate, please…I know what's in that folder."

"Do you." Kate shook her head.

"I know about the affair I supposedly had with Tessa Horton," Ricki sank deeper into the chair, tears brimming in her own eyes. She made no effort to stop them. "Despite the fact that I've never the girl before."

Setting the folder onto the table next to the chair, Kate crossed her arms over her chest. "Esposito has security camera footage from a jewelry store of you buying Tessa a pair of earrings. He found a record of a $12,000 cashiers check, from your account, that paid for them."

Ricki's head shot up. "Espo ran through my financials?!"

"He had Tori do a remote sweep of your computer—"

"Oh, he is _so _going to hear from my lawyer—"

"—and they found emails between you and Tessa. Emails detailing your affair and her desire to go public with it." Kate shook her head and dropped down to her knees, taking Ricki's hands into hers. "Espo wanted to slap the cuffs on you, but I made him stop because this?" She nodded toward the folder. "It makes no sense."

"You're right, it doesn't." Ricki looked Kate in the eye, even as a couple tears dropped down her face. "But there is one explanation that does."

When Kate frowned in confusion, Ricki glanced over her shoulder one more time.

"Jerry Tyson."


	51. Chapter 51: Where's the Body?

_**Author's Note: Sorry for the length of time between chapters, but I have exciting news: I published my first novel this past week! It's called Bounty and it's available on Amazon in both paperback and Kindle format. Check it out!**_

* * *

Kate Beckett covered her mouth with the palm of her hand. The mention of Jerry Tyson's name created a rumble in her stomach that made her think she was about to be sick. Thankful she wasn't standing, because her knees felt so weak, Kate tightened her grip on Ricki's hand and locked eyes with her.

"Castle…"

"Tyson was here," Ricki admitted, squeezing Kate's hand when her eyes widened. "Just before you came home. He told me he was behind the whole thing. That he wanted to bring me down, make me take the fall for Tessa's murder, then kill me in prison before you had a chance to prove my innocence."

Kate's mouth hung open, her brow scrunched into a frown. "Castle, that…"

"Makes more sense than the idea that I could murder anyone, let alone cheat on you?"

Kate's shoulders slumped, and again both of her hands found Ricki's. The detective scooted closer to her fiancée, a sad smile spreading on her face as she shook her head. "Yeah," she whispered. "Sorry."

This time, Ricki frowned. "For what?"

"For having even the slightest doubt."

"Kate," Ricki shook her head, "If the evidence was as sound as Tyson made it seem, then I understand. I would've had some doubt, too. But tell me this: did you come here tonight to arrest me?"

A rueful smile crept onto Kate's face. "No." She squeezed Ricki's hand again, leaning in until their foreheads were touching. "This is the first time this whole thing has made any sense. But there's still one thing I don't get."

Ricki gave Kate a quick peck on the lips. "What's that?"

"How did he manage to get you in that security footage?"

"Well, we know Tyson's notorious for having partners or using doubles," Ricki mused before a knowing smile crept onto her face. Ricki got up and crossed to the island in the middle of her kitchen. She grabbed a folded-up newspaper that had been lying on the counter, scanning it before returning to Kate with a knowing smile on her face.

"And I think I just figured out how he did it," she added, handing the paper to her fiancée. "Look at the ad on the bottom of the page."

Kate read aloud as her eyes scanned: "Celebrity lookalikes, pay by the hour." She looked up at Ricki with a quirked brow before reading again. "J.K. Rowling, James Patterson…Ricki Castle."

Ricki beamed. "Ten bucks says we call that number, they'll tell us someone booked my lookalike around the time of that security cam footage."

* * *

_Midtown…_

Just as Ricki had predicted, the celebrity lookalike service had booked a Ricki Castle lookalike in the timeframe of the damning security footage. It took a bit of convincing and even a bit of threatening on Kate's part, but the company had given them the name and contact information for the woman who had portrayed Ricki, and the pair were set to meet her at a coffee shop in Midtown.

"Ms. Jenkins?" Kate offered a fake smile when the woman turned her head. "I'm Detective Beckett, NYPD, this is Ricki Castle. Thank you for meeting us."

The other woman's smile grew, and she held out her hand for a shake. "Oh, no problem. It's nice to finally meet the person everyone says I look like."

Ricki frowned and cocked her head to the side. "No offense, but…I don't see it."

Amelia Jenkins laughed and shook her head. "Well, not from straight-on, I don't. It's more of a…people see me from the side or from behind and they think I'm you."

"Perfect for security camera footage," Ricki leaned in and whispered.

"What was the nature of the job?" Kate asked.

"Just walk into some jewelry store with a girl on my arm," Jenkins shrugged. "I was given a cashier's check for $12,000 and asked to buy her a pair of earrings."

Kate reached into the leather-bound notepad she was carrying, producing a head shot of Tessa Horton and sliding it across the surface of the table. "Is this the woman you went to the store with?"

Amelia studied the photo with a furrowed brow before nodding. "Yeah. Yeah, that's her."

Kate returned the photo to her notepad before producing another one – this time, a mug shot of Jerry Tyson. She slid that one across the table as well. "Was this the man who set up the job?"

Amelia's brow furrowed even more and she shook her head. "Not sure. The agency called to give me the job. I don't know who contacted them."

Ricki frowned. "Did they tell you why they wanted you to do this?"

"They said it was some kinda _Candid Camera_-type thing," Amelia explained. "That girl was supposed to be under the impression that she was being woo'd by bestselling author Ricki Castle, but at the end, they'd pull back the curtain and she'd realize she was being punked."

Ricki visibly blanched as Kate shook her head. "And you agreed to that?"

"They were offering me five grand more than the asking price." Amelia shrugged. "My father's in hospice care, and I really needed the money."

Ricki and Kate exchanged a look.

"But here's the strange part," Amelia leaned in, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee. "They never filmed the 'gotcha' part. In fact, there were no cameras at all. I asked, and they told me they'd just use security cam footage, really hit home the 'voyeuristic aspect' of it."

"So what did you do?" Ricki asked.

"I went through with it," Amelia sighed. "I wouldn't have if I didn't need the money so bad." She tore her gaze away from the two women seated across from her, chewing on her lower lip. "What's this all about?"

* * *

_That night…_

Much of the drive back to Ricki's loft from the precinct had gone by in silence. While Ricki was now officially cleared of suspicion in Tessa Horton's murder, tensions were still high at the Twelfth – partly because Detective Esposito couldn't lose the stink eye and partly because Ricki told Captain McNulty that she was considering legal action over unlawful searching of her computer.

Not that Kate blamed Ricki; the fact that Esposito practically convicted her from almost the get-go was a sore subject among them all – Detective Ryan had even gotten a shot in once the investigation rightly turned to Jerry Tyson.

But as Kate drove them back to the loft, her squad car approaching a bridge, she could tell something else was bothering her fiancée. Ricki Castle was never one to brood, yet that was exactly what she was doing as she stared out the passenger's side window. Kate chewed on her lip, briefly wondering if she should pry.

Never mind the fact that were the situation reversed, Ricki _would _pry.

"You okay?" Kate finally asked.

"Tessa Horton is dead because of me," Ricki said softly, still staring out the window.

"Castle—"

"Tyson killed her to destroy me," Ricki insisted. "That freak's obsession with me cost an innocent person her life." The writer's voice shook and Kate could see the tears brimmed in her eyes, even in the dark of night.

"Castle—"

"I know what I said when we first met," Ricki continued. "I was flippant and I made that crack about psychopaths and mystery writers, but dammit!" Tears were starting to fall. "I should've never gone to meet Tyson in the first place. I should've found another way to do that research."

Kate reached over and grabbed Ricki's hand. "Ricki!"

Ricki blinked and swiped under her eyes with a sniffle.

"It's not your fault," Kate said, shaking her head and giving Ricki's hand a squeeze when the writer opened her mouth to protest. "It's _not_. Okay? You are not to blame for Jerry Tyson, and you are not to blame for what he did to Tessa Horton."

Ricki sniffled and shook her head. "But he's gonna get away with it."

"No." Kate shook her head. "He won't. It took me more than a decade to bring down the bastard who killed my mom, Castle. You really think I'm gonna let some half-baked psychopath slip out of my grasp?"

For the first time that day, Ricki cracked a smile, even through her watery eyes. The two women squeezed hands, the car stopped as a partition leading to the bridge had lowered. The draw bridge was open and a cargo ship was passing through.

They sat in silence again, Kate's thumb running soothingly back and forth over Ricki's hand. The cargo ship passed and the draw bridge lowered as Kate gripped the steering wheel tighter and prepared to start accelerating once the partition lifted. The car slowly began to roll again, and Kate kept her grip on Castle's arm.

"You'll see, Castle," she assured, "We'll get him."

Before Ricki could respond, though, both she and Kate were jostled forward in their seats as something rammed into their vehicle from behind. Kate locked the brakes, yet her tires skidded across the pavement, and she glanced into the side mirror to see a black SUV attached to her rear bumper, pushing the car along the road out of her control.

"Beckett…"

Kate cast a brief glance Ricki's way, her hands working the wheel back and forth as best she could, her foot now mashed against the accelerator in hopes of dislodging her car from the SUV. But their bumpers stayed locked until the SUV swerved to the right and the momentum sent the police cruiser careening head-on into a concrete barrier just on the other side of the bridge.

The car smashed into the barrier, bits of concrete flying free as sheet metal crumpled and airbag deployed. Kate's head snapped forward, the seat belt the only thing keeping her face-planting into the airbag. Once the car came to a complete stop, steam poured from under the hood, and both Kate and Ricki were trying to gather their bearings.

Ricki glanced over her shoulder with a groan, just in time to see the driver's side door of the SUV open, a shadowy figure emerging. She cringed as she turned to glance back at Kate, noticing their hands were still clasped together – which was impressive, given the force with which they had hit.

"Beckett…"

In that instant, the driver's side door yanked open and a hand grabbed Kate's shoulder. Ricki saw the detective's eyes fly open as her body was pulled out of the car, and Ricki struggled to undo her seat belt because her hands were shaking.

"Beckett!"

"Castle!" the voice called out, and Ricki's blood ran cold. "I got your girl!"

Whatever fog was in Ricki's head lifted, and without another thought, she opened the glove box and pulled out Kate's back-up piece. She briefly thought of asking Kate why there was no passenger-side airbag if they got out of this alive, but the writer quickly discarded that thought, pushing her door open and turning to point the weapon at Tyson.

"Ah ah ah," the serial killer chided, his left arm wrapped around Kate's neck and his right hand pointing a gun at her temple. "I wouldn't do that, Rebecca. Not unless you wanna find out what the inside of your girl's head looks like."

"Drop the weapon, Tyson!"

"Or what?" Tyson laughed. "You gonna put me down? You know how to use that thing?"

Ricki cradled the gun in both hands and set her jaw, hoping against hope that Tyson wouldn't be able to see her hands trembling. She wasn't good with a gun, and her nerves were shot after the car crash and because she saw that psychopath with a gun to her lover's head. She wasn't trained to handle situations like this, but she wasn't about to back down, either.

"I'm the one you want," she offered. "Let her go and take me instead."

"And here I thought you were a writer," Tyson sneered. "You of all people should know the best way to destroy a person is to take away the thing they love the most."

Kate's face scrunched in disgust at Tyson calling her a _thing_, and she jammed her right heel as hard as she could into Tyson's foot. He grunted in pain and loosened his grip just enough that Kate could slip free of his grasp, bringing her right elbow up to his nose and grabbing his weapon once he staggered back and cupped his hands over his face.

By the time Tyson recovered, his upper lip and fingers soaked in blood, he saw both women with weapons trained on him. He huffed a laugh and shook his head, raising his arms to his head.

"You were never gonna shoot me, Rebecca."

"Keep talking," Ricki said, cocking the gun, "and you'll see just how wrong you are."

The two women approached, their guns trained on Tyson's chest, and he took a step backward for every step they took toward him. The bridge was to Tyson's back, and before long, he was near the ledge. If he kept going, he would topple over the edge and into the river below. It would be a long fall, too – certainly not the sort of fall one would likely survive.

"Here's what's gonna happen," Kate said, gun steady in her right hand, "you're gonna disappear. You're never gonna come back, and you're gonna leave my fiancée alone."

"Now why would I do that?"

Neither woman answered, simply training their weapons at Tyson's chest, practically daring him to make them pull the trigger. The longer Ricki held the weapon, the more natural it felt in her grasp. She briefly wondered if there would be consequences if she were to discharge someone else's weapon, but with Tyson standing in front of her, Ricki couldn't be bothered.

"Trust me, Jerry, Detective Beckett's not someone you want on your tail."

Tyson shrugged. "Just another target for me once you're out of the picture."

No sooner did the words leave his mouth, both weapons discharged, spraying bullets into the serial killer's chest. He staggered back, eyes wide as the bullets tore into his flesh and blood sprayed onto the pavement. By the time Kate and Ricki emptied their respective clips, Tyson's body hurdled over the railing of the bridge and fell to the water below.

The resulting splash was distant, and by the time Kate and Ricki peered over the edge, the water was barely disturbed. The two women exchanged another glance, their free hands clasping together. Kate expelled a ragged breath, while Ricki shook her head.

Kate dropped the weapon and fished out her phone, bringing it to her ear. "This is Detective Kate Beckett, badge number 41319. There's been an incident involving a police officer and an NYPD consultant. Shots were fired."

Ricki's head wandered as Kate gave dispatch the details, and she glanced over her shoulder to look down into the water again. The surf had calmed by this point, no evidence of a human body having fallen into it moments before.

By the time Kate hung up, Ricki shook her head.

"I don't think he's dead."

"What?" Kate frowned and turned to look in the water again. "Castle…"

"I can almost guarantee once CSU and everyone else shows up, they won't find a body."

"Castle," Kate shook her head, "you know how many bullets we put into him? You know how far a fall that was? There's no way he's still alive."

Ricki locked eyes with Kate. "Then where's the body?"


	52. Chapter 52: Like Russian

_**Author's Note: Ugh, sorry about how long this chapter took, guys. I'm, like, knee-deep in all sorts of stuff at the moment. But I haven't forgotten about y'all, and I hope you enjoy this latest chapter! Reviews are love.**_

* * *

_Three weeks later…_

It was a really stupid idea.

Even when she came up with it, Ricki Castle knew it was a stupid idea, and she fully expected Detective Beckett to reject it. Honestly, she got more resistance from Michael Connelly than she did from her fiancée. Then again, they were stuck in solving John Allen's murder, so at this point, having Ricki go undercover at a high-stakes poker game in Chinatown that may or may not involve the Russian mob seemed as good an idea as any.

But it was still stupid.

"You sure this is the place?" Kate asked, peering out the fogged-up rear window of their surveillance van. The rear was barely big enough for two people, and yet Kate and Ricki were wedged in along with Detective Ryan. Detective Esposito, upon hearing of the plan, bowed out – though that was likely because of whatever rift had developed between him and Ricki.

Just as well; the last thing Kate wanted was for the two of them to start squabbling while they were trying to go undercover.

"Cannell's never steered me wrong," Ricki answered, adjusting the mic hidden underneath her purple button-down and re-doing her ponytail. If nothing else, this gave Ricki an excuse to dress up a bit.

Never mind the fact that the launch party for _Heat Rises _was in two weeks.

"Button cam's in place," Ryan announced, squinting at a series of tiny monitors. "Good for picture and sound. The mic's just a back-up, in case the camera fails."

"So remember," Kate began, tugging on the collar of Ricki's shirt, "we can hear you, but you can't hear us. Once you leave this van, you're on your own, okay?" When Ricki nodded, Kate released a ragged breath. "Alright, tell me the plan again."

Ricki shrugged. "I go in, find the tattooed Russian, get a clear picture of him, then get the hell out."

Kate nodded. "And you don't stay any longer than necessary."

"I'll be fine." Ricki cupped Kate's face in her hands and drew her in for a kiss. "Besides, it's Chinatown. How many Russian poker players can there be?"

Kate chewed on her lower lip as she watched Ricki leave the van, the taste of the writer still on her lips. Kate stared at the ring on her left hand, shaking her head before taking the empty chair beside Detective Ryan and grabbing a headset. "I got a bad feeling about this."

Ryan tweaked one of the dials. "You and me both, Beckett."

* * *

_Inside…_

The place was far busier than Ricki had anticipated, practically filled to the brim with poker players and scantily-clad women bustling from table to table, filling the players' every whim. Cigarette girls patrolled the perimeter – who knew cigarette girls were still a thing? Ricki paused in the doorway, tugging on her sleeves as her eyes scanned the room.

"This place is great," she whispered. "Very noir. Might have to include it in the next Nikki Heat novel."

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught Ricki's attention, and she turned her whole body in that direction to make sure the camera got the view. "Tattooed Russian," she said before frowning… because as soon as she saw the first man, another one came into her field of vision going the other way. "Uh, another one."

Ricki's eyes scanned to the right, and her heart sank. Yeah, this plan was definitely not one of her brightest moments. "There's a whole table of tattooed Russians. Lot more in Chinatown than I thought."

She began weaving her way through the crowd, almost barreling into a woman carrying a tray of shot glasses. The woman gave Ricki a flirty smile, and though Ricki's eyes instantly went to her considerable cleavage, the writer distracted herself by grabbing one of the glasses and immediately downing it.

The burn of the alcohol slithering down her throat distracted Ricki far more than she had hoped, and she broke into a mini coughing fit. The woman with the tray touched her arm, and Ricki flashed a smile that looked more like a grimace before grabbing another glass and downing it.

"So the Russians are regulars here," she theorized, though it was a lot less fun when she was the only one doing it. "But only a handful of them play at the table, which was where John Allen would have gone. Guy said they're card bullies, raising the pots and forcing their opponents to bet more just to stay in the game."

* * *

_Surveillance van…_

Kate couldn't help but smile; Ricki was making like she was a modern-day Bond, definitely playing everything up. Dangerous as it was, her fiancée was still finding a way to have fun with it, and where that would've annoyed the hell out of Kate when they first met, now it was sort of endearing.

Ryan cocked a sideways glance. "You think she'll go through with it?"

Kate frowned. "What?"

"Ricki." Ryan pointed at the monitor. "You really think she'll sue cause of what Espo did?"

"I dunno," Kate admitted. "Sometimes I think she's serious, sometimes I think she's just yanking Espo around a bit, see how much she can make him twist in the wind."

"Just between you and me," Ryan shook his head, "I think it's fucked up what Javi did. I mean, I'm his partner and love him like a brother, but… he didn't have to do Castle like that."

Kate peered closer into the monitor. "Preaching to the choir here."

"…_see what kind of trouble I can stir up. I'll go sit at the table, see if I can find anything out._"

Kate and Ryan both sat up a little straighter, staring at each other with wide eyes.

"What did she say?"

Ryan shook his head. "She just said—"

"That's not the plan!"

* * *

_Inside…_

Ricki flashed the biggest smile she could as she took the empty seat at one of the tables in the back, even though the other five men at the table were certainly not the sort she would ever have thought to bring home to Martha. Three of them sneered at her in something resembling anger, while the other two were looking at her like she was a slab of meat.

The chill running down Ricki's spine made it clear that she had never gotten used to being ogled like that, even with all of the fame she had achieved.

"How's it going?" she asked.

A bald Russian wearing a black leather vest shook his head. "This is no-limits table."

"Perfect," Ricki shrugged. "I'm a no-limits kinda girl. Change for twenty grand."

As the cards were dealt, Ricki studied each of the men surrounding her, making sure the camera was on them long enough for Kate and Ryan back in the van to get a good look. She noticed the man across from her wearing a track suit, tattoos running up the side of his neck and covering his fingers – even the knuckles.

_Boy, that must've hurt…_

"Nice tattoos," she remarked. "What do they mean?"

The man in the track suit snarled. "They mean 'mind your own business and play cards'."

"Alright, don't mean to pry," Ricki shrugged. "Just a writer, doing a little research."

The man seated directly across from her, wearing a gray tank top and a bushy goatee, arched a brow. "Writer. Anything we might know?"

Ricki shrugged again, a sideways grin creeping onto her face. "_Storm Fall_, _Storm's Last Stand_, _Gathering Storm_…"

"Holy shit!" Track Suit Guy blurted out, smacking an open palm on the table. "Derrick Storm? I loved that guy! Why the fuck you kill him off?!"

"Long story," Ricki waved, leaning in. "But now I'm working on this other thing, underground poker, very hush-hush. Just came by to get a feel for the world, that's all."

Goatee Man glared at Ricki for several quiet moments before setting down his cards. "See, that's funny. Because I hear? You have new series. Detective. Smart, sexy. Heat, I think name is?"

A bead of sweat ran down the side of Ricki's face. "Yeah." _Crap._ "Nikki Heat."

"I like Nikki Heat," Goatee Man announced as he rose from his chair and wandered along the circumference of the table. By the time he was behind Ricki, she felt the barrel of a gun poking into her upper back. "But she no Derrick Storm."

"Look, I get you're upset I killed off Storm," Ricki laughed from nervousness as much as anything else, "but don't you think you're overreacting a little?"

"You work with cops," Goatee Man snarled. "How do we know you're not undercover?"

_Shit…_

* * *

_Surveillance van…_

"Shit!"

Kate tossed the headset aside and bolted from her chair, immediately running her fingers roughly through her hair before grabbing her purse off the floor. Rooting around in her bag, Kate pulled out a pair of black high heels and something resembling a black dress before stripping off her black button-down shirt and shedding off her blue jeans.

Detective Ryan sat slack-jawed, watching everything unfold before him, unable to believe his squad leader was stripping down to her red bra and matching underwear right in front of him. Before Ryan could react, though, Kate slipped the dress over her head, smoothing it out over herself before stepping into her heels.

Grabbing a self-check mirror from her bag, Kate ruffled up her hair some more before applying a darker shade of lipstick.

"Um… Beckett?"

Standing upright again, Kate placed a hand on her hip and rattled off something in Russian. She smirked at Ryan's quirked brow and shook her head. "Semester in Kiev," she explained, reaching for the door handle.

"Beckett, what are you doing?"

With a foot on pavement, Kate glanced over her shoulder and grinned. "Going to save fiancée," she answered with a thick Russian accent.

* * *

_Outside…_

The pavement was far too damp for such high heels, but Kate Beckett had enough years of practice that she could still stride with purpose. Sirens in the distance were little more than a nuisance, and as she stalked through the alley, Kate could feel a pair of eyes peering at her.

She ignored it as best she could, glancing down just in time to see some of the red poking out the top of her black dress. She left it as it was, though, rounding the corner in time to see two burly men dressed head to toe in black standing in front of a concrete staircase.

Her steps slowed, and Kate added more sway to her hips.

"Ah, gentlemen," she cooed in her fake accent. "I was hoping there would be game tonight."

"All full tonight, ma'am," the guard on the right said. "We're gonna have to ask you to turn around."

"Oh, come on," Kate scoffed. "My girlfriend is in there. She's player. You don't let me in, she lose. I am lucky charm. She lose vacation money to Cabo, I will be very cross!"

The two men glanced at each other with arched brows. Kate held her breath.

The guard on the right reached for his pistol. Kate was on him before the weapon left its holster, her right elbow slamming into his nose. The guard on the left swung at Kate and she ducked. She then grabbed him by his shoulders and stuffed her knee into his considerable gut.

Both men were crumpled on the pavement, moaning and writhing in pain. That was disappointingly easy.

"You call yourselves security," she kept the accent.

Kate wandered up the stairs and slipped into the heavy rusted door, her eyes taking a few moments to adjust to the light. Pressing her back against the now-closed door, Kate checked to make sure her gun was right where it should be.

In seconds, she heard a thick Russian voice.

"The story, the dead man, the roof," the voice said. "Who told you? Who knew?"

"His family knows," she heard Ricki say. "His children know."

The sound of a gun cocking made Kate's blood run cold. "If he paid what he owed, he would be home now. But he crossed me and now you have crossed me."

Kate crept as quietly as she could through the labyrinth that was apparently the place's kitchen, stopping in her tracks when she saw the burly Russian man pointing a gun at Ricki. She momentarily considered bum-rushing the man, but she was too far away. He had a chance to pull the trigger before she got to him.

"You might not be cop," the man said, "but you are good as one."

"Ricki, my darling!" Kate came out of hiding, laying on the accent thick once more as both the writer and the man with a gun turned to stare at her with confused glares. The detective jogged in her heels until she scooped Ricki into her arms and planted a soft kiss to her lips. "I have been looking all over for you!"

Ricki quirked a brow. "Beckett?"

The Russian man snarled. "Who are you?"

Whirling around, Kate leveled as menacing a glare as she could. "I am lover! You dare point gun at my woman?!"

Anger replaced confusion on the bald man's rough and scarred face, and he clenched his jaw as he tightened his grip on the gun. "Maybe your woman should learn when to mind own business."

As soon as Kate saw the man lift his arm again, she sprung at him, trapping the arm against the side of her body before pivoting and using her momentum to hoist the burly man over her shoulder. He grunted in pain when he slammed back-first onto the concrete floor, losing his grip on the gun before Kate jabbed her knee into his gut and she pulled her own weapon out from under her dress.

Wide-eyed, Ricki still had her hands up. "Is it just my imagination, or did you change?"

"Castle," Kate's voice returned to its normal cadence, "some back-up, please?"

* * *

_The Twelfth…_

As Kate walked out of Interrogation, notepad tucked under her arm, Detective Ryan and one of the uniforms walked in to arrest the suspect and process the charges. By the time she got to her desk, she smiled at the sight of Ricki in the guest chair to the side, two steaming mugs of coffee sitting on the desk.

"So how is she?" Ricki asked once Kate was seated.

"It's hard," she answered, "when everything you thought you knew turns out to be a lie."

"Not everything," Ricki countered. "Her husband's love was real. Sometimes… sometimes people do the wrong things for the right reasons."

"And far too often, the innocent are the ones who suffer."

"Listen," Ricki scooted a little in her seat, grabbing her mug and taking a sip, "sorry for going rogue like that earlier."

Kate shrugged. "Honestly, I'd have been surprised if you didn't."

"But hey," Ricki flashed a cheeky grin, "we still solved the case. Just proves, once again, that we make a pretty good team. Like Starsky and Hutch. Tango and Cash. Turner and Hooch."

Kate arched a brow. "You do remind me a little of Hooch."

Ricki narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, fighting back the mirth. Just because they were madly in love and engaged to be married, that didn't mean Kate was above getting in the occasional shot. She took another sip before setting the mug aside and resting her left elbow on the surface of the desk.

"So," Ricki's brows arched, "Russian Beckett, huh?"

"You like that?" Kate flashed a mischievous smile as she wrapped up the last of the paperwork for the night.

"You have _no_ idea. Maybe I should write Nikki undercover with the Russian mob in my next book."

"Maybe." Kate capped her pen and stuffed the paper she had been writing on in a manila folder before standing and grabbing her leather coat. "Or maybe… we could go back to the loft and I can be your own personal Bond girl."

Ricki stood when Kate did, and when the detective's finger trailed teasingly over Ricki's jaw, she swallowed hard and bit her lower lip to keep herself from moaning in anticipation and frustration. Kate brushed past her on the way to the elevator, and Ricki turned immediately to follow… only to crash right into the chair she just vacated.

Both writer and chair careened to the floor, drawing the attention of the rest of the bullpen. Ricki sprung back to her feet, clearing her throat and waving at the snickering audience. "I'm okay," she protested with a smile that looked more like a cringe.

Kate was waiting for Ricki at the elevator, biting back a smirk of her own. "You sure about that, Castle?"

As the doors to the elevator slipped shut, Ricki grabbed Kate's face with both hands and devoured her in a kiss she had been wanting to plant on the detective since she first heard that Russian drawl. Kate moaned softly when Ricki's tongue slipped into her mouth, and the detective lost her grip on her coat.

Ricki broke the kiss with a devilish grin. "You tell me."


	53. Chapter 53: In Too Deep

_**Author's Note: Sorry for the length of time between posts! This chapter gave me a lot of problems; I was trying to incorporate Cuffed into the chapter, but just couldn't find a way to do it that I was happy with, so I went with this instead. There will be a "Cuffed" chapter, just... not this one. Enjoy! And I love reviews!**_

* * *

_Ricki's loft…_

Kate Beckett couldn't remember the last time she had a day off.

Okay, so that wasn't entirely true; there was that week she took off after arresting Bracken. Still, with all the cases they had been working of late, Captain McNulty had seen fit to give Kate and the boys a few days off. For her part, Kate decided she wasn't going to go anywhere if she didn't have to.

Laziness was a part of it, but as the sun began to peek through the windows of Ricki Castle's bedroom, Kate nuzzled into the crook of her lover's neck and decided there was no place else she would rather be.

Martha and Alexis were out for the day, treating themselves to the spa treatment before using Ricki's credit card to get Alexis ready for her first day at Marlowe Prep. Ricki had fretted the night before about her daughter being high school age now. Clearly, the years were going by too quickly to Ricki's liking, though Kate had to admit she was adorable when she pouted.

The loft was silent save for Ricki's deep, rhythmic breathing. Kate glanced up at her fiancée, floored once again by the fact that they were going to get married. Time was, Kate thought she'd never tie the knot with anyone. After Will Sorenson shipped off to Boston, Kate hadn't put forth much effort into relationships, focusing instead on her work.

Even the relationships she did have after Will – Demming, the detective from Robbery, a doctor named Josh who spent more time jetting off to Africa than lounging about with her – Kate always had one foot out the door. Some of it was self-preservation. Between losing her mother, watching her father lose himself in a bottle, and watching Sorenson walk out on her, Kate was tired of losing the people who meant the most to her.

More than anything, though, Kate lived in her work. She was as dedicated to her line of work as Josh had been in his. The independence was nice, and Kate had convinced herself that very distance was exactly what she needed. But more than once, Roy Montgomery had warned her about burnout… and then Dr. Burke had told her many of the same things.

She never believed a word of it. At least, not until she met Ricki.

Ricki began to stir, grunting softly under her breath before her eyes fluttered open and a lazy smile crept onto her face. With a contented sigh, the writer leaned in and kissed Kate on the forehead. "Morning."

"Hey, Castle."

"So," Ricki pulled the covers up over both of their heads, hiding the two women away from the rest of the world. They were both blissfully naked, and Ricki's thighs ached with the memory of the previous night. "How should we spend the day?"

"Um, I dunno." Kate feigned an innocent look. "We could read."

Ricki's fingers stroked gingerly over Kate's shoulder. "We could watch TV."

"We could get something to eat…"

"Could to that, yeah…"

Their lips met for the first time that morning, morning breath be damned. Ricki's eyes fluttered closed again, the hand not resting on Kate's shoulder coming up to rest in the valley between her breasts. Ricki paid reverence to Kate's scar every chance she got, because it signaled not only her lover's survival, but her strength and everything Ricki admired in her.

Ricki had her own scar – which Kate instantly found. Their legs tangled together as the kiss deepened, mouths parting and tongues dancing against each other. Whereas the previous night had been frantic and impatient, the morning sun brought with it a certain laziness and the desire to take their time.

"Ricki," Kate whispered when the writer's lips moved along her jawline.

Ricki's lips made their way to Kate's ear and she stopped, taking a moment to savor the warmth of her lover's body pressed against hers. No matter how many times they woke up next to each other, no matter how many times Ricki's fingers got to trail over Kate's smooth skin, she was still amazed.

Ricki had killed off Derrick Storm because the sense of wonder was gone. Not just in her writing, but in her life. The lifestyle demanded of a best-selling author with a bad reputation was exhausting, especially as Alexis got older. Nikki Heat was a fresh start, not just creatively, but it was almost as if Ricki's entire life went on reset.

"I can't believe I'm gonna marry you," Ricki whispered in Kate's ear.

"Me neither," Kate answered with a watery smile, bringing Ricki to face her. She traced a small circle over Ricki's cheek and leaned in for a tender kiss. The cop with a broken heart who never thought she'd marry anyone was about to tie the knot – to a woman.

Her favorite author, no less.

Leaning down to kiss the tip of Kate's nose, Ricki arched a brow. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

Kate's mouth opened, but nothing came out. That wasn't unusual for her – Ricki was the one who had a way with words, not Kate – but she hated going blank like this whenever Ricki asked her a question. Ricki was understanding and patient, offering a soft smile and keeping quiet to give Kate the time she needed to piece together what to say.

Sharing wasn't Kate's forte – at least, not verbal sharing. But she had been trying with Ricki, and she could tell that she was getting better and that Ricki appreciated the effort.

"I'm just… overwhelmed." A soft smile crept onto Kate's face. "In all the best possible ways."

Ricki smiled and brushed aside a strand of Kate's hair. It was far longer and fuller than when they first met, and it no longer had that hint of red that made Kate look like such a spitfire back then. Now it was almost runway model-quality, even when it matted to her head and sticking out all over the place from a night of sleep.

Ricki was convinced more than ever that Kate Beckett couldn't look bad if she tried.

"Remember in _Gathering Storm_?" Kate asked. "When you wrote that speech Clara Strike gave?"

Ricki smiled. "_'You saved me, Derrick,' she finally admitted with a hitch in her voice. 'And I don't just mean the firefight in the hangar. I mean…' She paused to gather her thoughts, hands clasped together and her eyes suddenly glued to the floor. 'This job will swallow you whole if you let it, and for a long time, I let it. The agency _was_ my life, and it was killing me._

"'_But you… Derrick, you're the best thing to happen in my life in a long time. Probably longer than I can remember. This life is hard, borderline impossible. Far too many sleepless nights and far too few pats on the back. This sort of job, you do it right, no one even knows you exist. But I do exist, and it's because of you.'_

"_Storm was at a loss for words. His mouth opened and then shut. He felt the briefest of smiles tugging on the corners of his mouth, but the bullet wound in his side made its presence felt once again. He held a cloth to the wound with as much pressure as he could, his forehead coated in sweat._

"'_Volkov wants to put a bullet in my head tomorrow?' Strike's jaw set. 'Let him. He might kill me, but he can never take away these last few months. You mean everything to me, Derrick Storm, and no matter what happens, that will never change. You are, and will forever be, a part of me, and you will always have a home in my heart.'_

"_Storm didn't know what to say, so he did the one thing he knew would get the message across: he grabbed the back of Clara's head with his free hand and kissed her as fiercely and as passionately as he had the strength for._"

Kate arched her brow and smiled one of those giant toothy smiles she knew Ricki loved. "You remember that entire passage after all these years?"

Ricki shrugged. "I did so many readings for _Gathering Storm_, I was muttering that scene in my sleep."

"Well…" Kate's finger trailed along Ricki's jaw. "That's how I feel about you."

"Kate…"

"Before I met you, I was…" Kate shook her head. "I don't know what I was, but I was definitely not happy. I had those walls around myself and I was keeping everyone at arm's length and it just… I look back on it now and realize how miserable I was.

"But then I met you. And… you taught me how to be my best self and how to look forward to the adventures of tomorrow. You showed me that there's more to my life than what happened to me, what was taken from me."

Ricki leaned in for another kiss, pouring every ounce of love she could into it. She could feel the emotion prickling in her eyes, and though she would be the first to admit she was definitely the sap among the two of them, Ricki found herself not wanting to cry. For some reason.

"I just wish Mom could be here to see all this," Kate said once the kiss broke. "To see _you_. She would've loved you, Castle."

A dopey grin spread across Ricki's face. "Oh, yeah?"

"Mmhmm."

"Well, I'm sorry that I'll never get to meet her." Ricki's eyes flickered downward briefly before they came up to meet Kate's gaze again. Both women had tears in their eyes, yet none of them were falling.

"S'ok, Castle." Kate smirked. "Sometimes, I think Martha's enough mother for both of us."

Ricki cringed and shook her head. "Can we please not talk about my mother when we're both naked?"

Kate huffed a quiet laugh before wrapping her arms around Ricki's shoulders and pulling her into a long, slow kiss. Their tongues teased briefly before Kate nipped at Ricki's lower lip, cocking a brow and biting her own lip.

"Deal. Now…" One of Kate's hands ran down Ricki's back before she grabbed a handful of the writer's left butt cheek. "I think I have an idea for breakfast…"

* * *

_Best Travelers hotel…_

Justin Marquette sighed as he checked his watch. His guest was almost a half an hour late. This was not the job he had been promised. Were bills not stacking up as high as they were, he would've never taken this job in the first place. It wasn't even a role for an actual series or a film; it was just some stupid self-help crap.

Unfortunately, this was what his career had become.

It was either this or some off-off-off-Broadway crap he couldn't even pronounce.

The money wasn't even all that great. But it _was_ money, so he really had no choice but to take the gig. The check had cleared that morning, and if nothing else, Justin was getting a free room out of the deal.

Not that Best Travelers rooms were that great. But still, free was free.

He sighed again when the knock finally came at his door. He had specifically requested Room 147 per the instructions of the job. He had felt strange requesting an exact room, but hey, a job was a job. Justin made sure the annoyance was off of his face.

He opened the door and took a step back once he saw the face of the person he'd been expecting. "Been waiting for you. Come on in." Turning his back to the door, Justin opened the door to the black fridge up against the wall. "Let me get you a water."

Turning around with a bottle of water in-hand, Justin barely had time to react when he saw his visitor standing in the doorway pointing a gun at him. The shot rang out in the small room and Justin staggered backward when the bullet sank into his chest.

With a grunt, Justin dropped the water bottle and grabbed the back of the red chair to his right. When he fell back to the floor, his baby blue shirt stained with blood, the chair fell back with him.

Even in death, Justin Marquette's eyes were wide with surprise.


	54. Chapter 54: Confession

_**Author's Note: I think you guys are gonna really like where this is going...**_

_**Oh, and while you're at it, head on over to my Amazon page. My new release, a digital short titled Boundless, is free through Friday on Kindle, and my debut novel Bounty is on sale this week for 99 cents. Enjoy!**_

* * *

_The Twelfth…_

"Anita Miller," Javier Esposito greeted as he walked into Interrogation One, eyeing the redhead sitting at the table with her hands clasped together on the surface. "Do you know why we called you in today?"

"Yes." Her nod was resolute. "And I will explain everything. Just… not to you."

"Excuse me?" Esposito claimed the empty seat across from Anita, slapping his file folder onto the rusted surface of the table. Anita was a person of interest in the murder of Justin Marquette, a struggling actor who had been gunned down in Room 147 at the Best Travelers hotel. She also seemed pleasant enough – her current outlandish request notwithstanding.

"Ms. Miller—"

"I want to speak with Detective Beckett."

Setting his pen down, Esposito pursed his lips. Things had been chilly between he and Kate since the fallout from the Tessa Horton murder. He went over the line in accusing Kate's fiancée of being a murderer, and the chill had yet to thaw – partly because Esposito was too stubborn to admit he was wrong and apologize.

The looming threat of legal action on Ricki's part hadn't helped matters.

"How do you know Detective Beckett?"

"I don't," Anita admitted. "But I know _of_ her. I know her reputation. And frankly, this room could use a little less testosterone right now."

"Ms. Miller, we have reason to believe you might have information regarding the murder of Justin Marquette."

"And I do." Another terse nod. "But I will only tell it to Detective Beckett."

* * *

_Later…_

Annoyed as she was at being called into work on her day off – and having to put on actual clothes – Kate Beckett had to admit she was intrigued. The name Anita Miller meant nothing to her, but if her presence was needed to figure out who killed Justin Marquette, then she would bite the proverbial bullet and show her face.

Ricki was intrigued too, perhaps more so, even joking on the ride over that Anita Miller was actually a long-lost lover whom Kate had not previously mentioned. The gleam in her eye told Kate she was joking, which was good, because Kate had been two seconds away from pulling out her gun.

Noting how Esposito had made himself scarce once Ricki showed up, Kate slipped into the interrogation room with her fiancée right behind. Kate's hair was up in a messy bun, and she had gone with a casual jeans-and-sweater look.

"Ms. Miller, I'm Detective Kate Beckett," she introduced, "this is Ms. Castle. I understand you wanted to speak with me?"

Anita's face brightened. "Yes."

Kate fought the urge to roll her eyes as she took the seat across from the redhead. "May I ask why?"

Anita Miller only shrugged in response, glancing over Kate's shoulder. Ricki was still standing by the door, hands in her pockets. "I'd like to make a confession."

Kate leaned in with an arched brow. "A confession."

"I killed Justin Marquette."

Kate glanced over her shoulder and locked eyes with Ricki. The writer was wide-eyed and grinning, mouthing the words _shortest work day ever_ to her lover. Fighting the urge to smirk in response, Kate turned back to Anita and clasped her hands together.

"Ms. Miller, do you realize the seriousness of what you're saying?"

"I do," Anita replied with haste. "I did it. It was me. I… I knocked on the door to his room. Justin opened it, said he'd been waiting for me, then he walked to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. When he turned around… I shot him."

"Why?"

"Because he deserved it."

Ricki pushed herself off the wall and took the seat next to Kate. "What did he do to deserve it?"

Anita blinked. "I…" She sighed and her shoulders slumped. "I don't know."

Before either Kate or Ricki could give voice to the confusion that was threatening to suffocate the room, a soft knock came on the door before Detective Ryan poked his head in. "Uh… guys?" He looked just as lost as they did. "We've got a problem."

* * *

_Outside Interrogation_…

As soon as Kate shut the door to Interrogation One behind her, Ryan glanced over his shoulder and handed her a purple file folder. "I did some checking on Anita Miller, and… it turns out that she's been in AA for the past six months."

Kate flipped through the pages, not really paying attention. "Yeah, and?"

"Well, I spoke with her sponsor on the phone and he said that she was with him having dinner last night. I ran her financials and found a transaction at the restaurant using her credit card."

Ricki shrugged. "She could've killed Justin after dinner."

Ryan shook his head. "Wait staff remembers seeing both Anita and her AA sponsor at the restaurant from 9 p.m. until about midnight, encompassing our entire time-of-death window."

Ricki glanced back at the door to Interrogation. "Which means she couldn't have killed Justin Marquette."

Kate shook her head. "But why confess to it?"

"Detective?"

The sound of a new voice caught the attention of both detectives and the writer, and they glanced up to see one of the older detectives in the precinct standing next to a tall, burly man sporting a rough beard and drooping eyes.

"This is Sam Carson, and apparently he has something important to say."

"Mr. Carson, I'm Detective Kate Beckett. Would you like to go somewhere a little more private?"

Sam shook his head. "No need. I'm just here to confess to a murder. I killed Justin Marquette."

Shooting a glare Ryan's way, and doing her best to ignore her fiancée going all wide-eyed and slack-jawed, Kate leaned and whispered through gritted teeth, "I'm not even supposed to be here today!"

* * *

_Later…_

"Alright, Castle," Kate said with a huff as she plopped herself into her chair, "let's hear it."

Ricki had been studying the murder board, so engrossed in the series of contradictory facts laid out on the white board that her lover's voice had barely registered. But it did, and Ricki glanced over her shoulder to smile at Kate – only to find herself out of breath yet again at the sight of the ring on Kate's finger.

It didn't matter how many times Ricki saw that ring: she still marveled at it. More importantly, she marveled at the fact that she was about to marry the love of her life. There was a time Ricki had been convinced she would never marry again – the scars from her relationship with Martin were never as healed as she let on.

But the moment she met Kate, Ricki could tell her life would be changed forever. She had no idea what that entailed at the time – for a while, it seemed like the change would be mostly professional, with a new book character revitalizing what she had to admit was a sagging career. After a couple weeks, though, Ricki could no longer deny one simple fact: Kate Beckett was in her veins and there was no getting her out.

Not that Ricki wanted to. The way Kate looked up at her every morning through those hooded, sleepy hazel eyes… Ricki wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

"Hm?"

"Don't hold out on me, Castle," Kate teased. "I know there's some whacked-out crazy theory bouncing around in that head of yours. So come on, let's hear it."

"Really?"

"Can't be any crazier than what's actually going on."

With a sideways grin, Ricki turned her back to the murder board before taking her place in the chair next to Kate's desk. She rested an elbow on the surface of the desk and leaned in close, as if her voice were about to drop to a conspiratorial whisper. "Alright, then… um, I think…" Ricki's face fell and her shoulders slumped. "I think I'm woman enough to admit I got nothin'."

"Oh, but I think I do," Ryan announced as he strode toward Kate's desk, a folder in his hand. "I just found a connection between Anita Miller and Sam Carson. Remember that… weird symbol Esposito found on his hand? Well, it leads back to an organization called Eternal Horizons Institute."

Kate frowned. "Never heard of it."

"Well, you know how Anita's been going to AA and Sam mentioned having anger issues? Well, to quote EHI's website, they provide 'sanctuary, enlightenment, and pathways to the ultimate self.' They claim to have thousands of followers all over the world."

"But not all of them are satisfied customers," Detective Esposito interjected, purposefully keeping his gaze on the paper in his hands. "In 2005, three of those followers died in some kind of sweat lodge initiation. Charges were filed, but ultimately the deaths were ruled accidental."

Ricki blanched. "What is this, a cult?"

"Complete with a charismatic and sinister leader," Ryan said, handing a sheet of paper to Kate. "Dr. Gustavo Bauer, founder of EHI. Has a Ph.D. in something called transpersonal psychology."

"Probably from Never Heard Of It University," Ricki muttered.

Kate shook her head as she read from the sheet. "Bio-cognitive program to help free you from the negative anchors holding you down so you can soar." She rolled her eyes. "Alright, Castle and I will go pay Bauer a visit, you guys keep working on Anita and Sam."

* * *

_EHI Headquarters…_

For EHI to have space in a high rise in the middle of Manhattan meant the business was thriving. As skeevy and downright creepy as it was – complete with a leader with the name of a Bond villain and a cryptic emblem, there was no telling what EHI was _really_ up to. Especially since two people who claimed to have killed Justin Marquette had been a part of the EHI program to deal with their own issues.

"Hi," Kate greeted as they approached the reception desk, and the blonde woman seated behind it. "We're here to see Dr. Bauer—"

"Detective Beckett." The woman smiled and rose to her seat. "Ms. Castle. Welcome to EHI. Dr. Bauer is expecting you."

Ricki arched a brow and stuffed her hand into the pockets of her coat.

"How?" Kate shook her head. "We didn't make an appointment."

"Dr. Bauer is a brilliant man. Right this way."

At first, Kate didn't follow the woman, too busy trying to figure out how Dr. Bauer could already know to expect her when she had never even heard of the man – or his operation – until an hour ago. It wasn't until Ricki began walking down the hallway that Kate finally moved, her steps more confident than she felt.

"He's right in here," the woman, who never introduced herself, announced in front of a heavy black door. She walked off without any further word or action, and Kate glanced at Ricki. The writer shrugged before they finally pushed their way into the room.

Other than a desk and flatscreen monitor, though, there was nothing else – and no one else – in the room. Kate and Ricki shared another quizzical glance before Kate shook her head and once again muttered the phrase "I'm not even supposed to be here today…"

"There's no one here," Ricki said.

On cue, the flatscreen illuminated, with Dr. Gustavo Bauer seated in front of what looked like a skyline. "On the contrary. Greetings, Detective Beckett, Ms. Castle. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Speaking to us in-person would be nice," Kate said.

"Regrettably, I am in Stockholm for a seminar," Bauer lamented in a thick accent and a deep baritone that would probably be soothing were it not connected to a man at the helm of a mysterious, cult-like organization. The fact that he already knew Kate and Ricki by name was equally unsettling.

"Fine." Kate produced a head shot from her binder. "Do you know this man? Justin Marquette?"

Dr. Bauer shook his head. "I'm afraid not."

"What about Anita Miller and Sam Carson?" Ricki asked.

"I'm sorry, but I do not know those people."

"Really." Kate shook her head. "Because we have reason to believe they were once a part of EHI."

"I can assure you, Detective, they were not."

"Seem pretty sure there." Ricki arched a brow. "Didn't have to consult any files or anything."

"I make it a point to know all of the people who come to EHI in search of answers. The two people of which you speak were not among them, and frankly, I don't see how any of this is relevant."

"They're all a part of a murder investigation, _Mr._ Bauer."

"Detective, I am struck by your hostility."

Ricki quirked a brow. "I'm struck by the fact that you don't seem the least bit concerned that a homicide detective is questioning you about two people linked to your organization and how they might be involved with Justin Marquette's murder."

"I'm sure you won't mind if we check your files," Kate threatened. "Verify your memory."

"You'll need a warrant for that, Detective." Dr. Bauer's aged features suddenly hardened, something vaguely resembling anger now in his eyes. "And you won't get one."

The screen went black before either Kate or Ricki could reply.

"Well," Ricki said with a sigh, "was it just me, or did that feel all… _Big Brother_?"

Before Kate could react, she scrunched up her nose and reached out to grab Ricki by the arm. Her brow creased and a look of disgust came out Kate's face. Her knees were starting to go weak even as she tugged on her fiancée's sleeve. "Hey, Castle, you smell that?"

Ricki did, in fact, smell that. It was faint, but the odor was noticeable. The writer went to open her mouth, but her knees buckled before she could say anything. Ricki grabbed onto Kate's shoulder for support, but she felt her lover buckling against her touch as well.

Both women looked up in time to see the faintest wisp of gray smoke filtering through the sprinkler heads. Kate turned her gaze to Ricki, her mouth open and the words hanging on the tip of her tongue. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, though, and Kate crumpled to the floor.

By the time Ricki joined her, they were both unconscious.


	55. Chapter 55: Undo It

_**Author's Note: Because some readers have been asking for it... enjoy!**_

* * *

_Somewhere…_

Consciousness slowly returned to Kate Beckett. At first, it was no different than waking up in the morning. She was curled onto her side on the right side of a mattress, one not nearly as soft as Ricki's, and as she blinked the drowsiness out of her eyes, Kate was met with the blissful sight of her fiancée asleep. But a dull throb began to form at the base of Kate's skull, and once she saw the dark and barren room surrounding them, Kate sat up.

Or rather, she tried to before she realized that she had been handcuffed to Ricki Castle. Kate huffed a sigh, squeezing her eyes shut in the vain hope of getting her headache to go away. Forcing her eyes open again, Kate tugged her arm, hoping the motion would jostle Ricki into waking up.

She did wake - with the same lazy grin she always had when she returned from slumber. "Mm, hi."

"Castle."

"Don't get up yet," Ricki muttered, her eyes still shut. "Stay in bed."

"Castle!"

Ricki's eyes did open this time, and the smile on her face disappeared once their surroundings sank in for her too. "What the…?"

"Where are we?"

"I don't know." Ricki tried to sit up, only to find the cuff latched onto her wrist. "We're handcuffed. Kinky."

Kate rolled her eyes. "This isn't funny."

"I didn't say funny, I said kinky."

"My watch is gone," Kate added with a sigh. "What do you wanna bet my badge and gun are, too?"

Ricki finally managed to sit up, raking the fingers of her free hand over her dark hair. It was matted in places and sticking straight out in others; that told her they had been gone a while - but not so long that lack of a shower became too terribly noticeable.

"I don't know where we are," Ricki said, "but if I were writing a book, this is the sort of place where bad things would happen."

Kate frowned. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Uh…" Ricki blinked and shook her head, as if trying to dislodge the cobwebs. "We went to EHI to talk to Dr. Bauer. Which, by the way, was creepy as hell."

"Right." Kate perked up a little. "He stonewalled us all the way from Stockholm and then…" Her shoulders sagged again. "And then…"

"And then you mentioned smelling something funny…"

"And then we passed out." Kate sighed, slowly gathering herself to get back to her feet. Ricki joined her, mostly because she had no choice with them bound together with a pair of handcuffs. "Great, so whatever the hell Justin Marquette, Anita Miller, and Sam Carson were into has us drugged and cuffed in some dank warehouse. Fantastic."

"How long do you think we've been out?"

"Dunno." Kate studied the ceiling as best she could; the only light in the room came from street lamps that spilled in through a small window up near the ceiling, but that was at least ten feet above their heads. "Castle, do you have your phone on you?"

Ricki waved her free hand over her pockets, not expecting to find her phone. "No."

"Check for mine."

Ricki's hand waved lightly over the front pockets of Kate's jeans, finding nothing, before doing likewise over the back pockets. But Ricki's hand lingered a little longer on the left side, and her palm pressed firmly against Kate's butt cheek.

"Castle." Kate arched a brow and glanced over her shoulder. "_Phone_."

"Right, sorry." Ricki bit her lip to hide the smirk as her hand made one more pass. "Nope, nothing there."

"Great." Kate sighed and shook her head. "We need to get these cuffs off."

"You think there's a saw in here somewhere?"

"I don't think a saw's gonna cut through the chain."

"I know."

Kate turned to regard Ricki, her mouth agape as she closed the already limited distance between them. "Castle, are you… are you offering to cut off your own hand to free us?"

"_Mine?!_" Ricki scoffed. "Oh, God no… I meant yours."

"_My_ hand?!" Kate was too incredulous to be truly angry. "Why _my_ hand?"

"Well, I can't very well write with just one hand, now can I?"

Kate pursed her lips, though that was to hide the smile that was threatening to break out. Even at her most exasperating, Ricki was still adorable beyond measure, and Kate hated that she could hardly ever stay mad. "Keep going like this and we'll find out," she threatened with an arched brow and a knowing smirk.

Before Ricki could shoot back another retort - perhaps one about occasionally writing Nikki Heat one-handed anyway - Kate strode to the far end of the spacious warehouse, tugging Ricki along with her. The writer struggled to find her footing at first before hitting her stride, her eyes taking in the dank and almost pitch black surroundings. She huffed a frustrated sigh when she couldn't find anything resembling a door.

"This was so much more fun the other night at my place."

"I don't see a door," Kate was thinking out loud, purposefully ignoring Ricki's quip - partly because the last thing she needed to do right now was let herself get distracted with thoughts that would lead to blood rushing away from her brain. "How did we get here if there's no way in?"

"And how are we supposed to get out?" Ricki asked. "It's not like we can just… kick down the wall."

"Maybe we can." Realization hit Kate seemingly all at once, and for the first time since coming to, she felt completely clear. Her headache was gone and the surge of adrenaline that overtook her almost had her vibrating. "If we find a soft portion of wall, maybe we can kick a hole through it and get out of here."

"Assuming what's on the other side isn't any worse than this."

Kate arched a brow. "You got a better idea?"

Ricki sighed and shrugged. "Not really."

The writer joined Kate by one of the walls closest to the window several feet above them. She ran the palm of her hand gently along the wall, careful not to get her hand caught on any potential splinters or nails or other jagged edges. Her Ricki's eyes were finally starting to adjust to the lack of light.

"Well, I know one thing," she said, "we haven't been down here for very long."

"How do you figure that?"

"Well, we're not starving, for one thing." Ricki glanced up at the window. "It was already late afternoon when we went to EHI, and it's probably not that far into the night."

"All this on my day off," Kate muttered under her breath.

"Shh," Ricki hissed, now pressing herself up against the wall so that her ear was next to the surface. She crouched by a worn section of the wall, locking eyes with Kate before pointing at the wall, whispering "I hear voices."

Kate crouched next to her fiancée, her palm pressed flat against the wall. It took a few moments of straining, but soon enough, she heard the voices too. The two women locked eyes again and Kate pressed herself up against the wall even more.

"They're speaking in Russian," she whispered with a frown. "And… is that…?"

"Sounds like Dr. Bauer."

"Stockholm, this isn't."

Ricki crept closer to Kate. "What are they saying?"

"Someone's asking Bauer when he can pick up the girls." Kate's eyes narrowed. "The buyer is on their way in from Kosovo and they expect shipment upon final payment."

"Girls." Ricki's eyes widened. "Do… do they mean us?!"

"Shh!" Kate leaned closer still to the wall, wisps of hair brushing against the surface. "Bauer is ordering someone - guy named Madsen, I think - to go out and take care of 'those two.' The two who went to the cops."

"Anita and Sam."

"Maybe that's what got Justin Marquette killed," Kate whispered.

"He knew what Bauer was really up to…"

"And maybe he was about to go public with what he knew…"

"And EHI had to get rid of him before he could talk and ruin the whole operation."

Kate held up her hand and squinted again. "They're leaving."

Ricki glanced up again. "If we're gonna get out of here, we better do it now."

Both women sprung back to their feet, staggering when they forgot they were still bound together by the handcuffs. Ricki had to use Kate's shoulder to keep herself upright. They stood shoulder-to-shoulder, eyeing the wall before Kate turned her gaze back to her lover. The ghost of an idea crept into her mind, but she didn't entirely trust it.

Then again, they didn't have any options.

"How's your kicking leg, Castle?"

A rueful smile crept onto Ricki's face and she gave a single nod. "I was attacker on my high school soccer team."

Kate's eyes traveled downward. "In those heels?"

With nothing more than a smirk, Ricki sucked in a deep breath before she kicked out her right leg, the end of her heel slamming into the malleable wall. It gave on the first kick, and the two women shared a smile before they both started kicking the wall. It started to fall away, first in small chunks and then in much larger pieces.

As soon as the wall gave away, they stopped kicking and grabbed large chunks of wall to peel away with their free hands - an awkward exercise, considering they were still more or less chained to each other. Ricki stopped abruptly, though, when a low growl on the other side caught her attention.

Grabbing Kate's shoulder, Ricki craned her neck. "Shh…"

Kate frowned before the sound reached her ears as well. Her eyes widened, and Kate took a couple steps back, the cuffs causing Ricki to do the same just as a large orange-and-white paw swiped at them through the hole.

"Shit!" Kate yelled.

"A tiger!" Ricki shook her head and took another couple steps backward. "We let loose a tiger!"

Kate cringed. "I didn't mean to!"

"Undo it!" Ricki grabbed Kate by the waist and pulled them further away from the wall, seeing it give way under the creature's sharp claws. "Undo it!"

Kate fixed her fiancée with an annoyed glare over her shoulder. "What do you want me to do, Castle? Just wave my hand and make the tiger disappear? You're engaged to a homicide cop, not Hermione."

By this point, the tiger was almost through the makeshift threshold. Kate and Ricki had backed themselves up to the opposite end of the warehouse, backing into a war chest that came up almost to their waists. They climbed on top of it with far more effort than necessary, with their hands still chained together, and as soon as they found their footing, Kate looked up again.

"Castle," she said, pointing up at the window. "If we can get up onto that stack of boxes, we should be able to reach the window."

"We better do it fast," Ricki countered. "Cause kitties can climb."

As if on-cue, the tiger burst through the remainder of the wall and growled in its stampede toward the chest. Both Kate and Ricki yelped at the sight of the large animal barreling toward them, stepping back just as the tiger's claws scratched the edge of the chest.

"We're gonna have to jump together," Kate said. "You with me?"

Ricki nodded and gave as confident a smile as she could, even as she flinched when the tiger growled again. "Always."

Both women took a step back before Kate glanced over her shoulder. When Ricki responded with a nod, they both ran toward the stack of boxes. Kate's feet left the chest before Ricki's, and they were surprisingly in-sync as they crossed the distance to the stack. Kate grabbed onto the nearest edge she could, crying out in pain when her grip held and the pressure yanked on her shoulder.

Ricki reached out and grabbed Kate's shirt with her free hand, keeping herself from falling to the ground. The tiger growled again, and though Ricki was tempted to look down to see where the animal was, she didn't dare try it. Instead, she grabbed onto the boxes as best as she could with her other hand still linked to Kate's.

Another growl, and Ricki felt something snag on the leg of her jeans. A rush of panic overtook the writer, and she thrashed so hard that both she and Kate almost lost their respective grips. But they both held on, and the claw that had snagged on her jeans came off.

"Castle!"

"I'm okay!" Ricki protested. "I'm okay… though now might be a good time for Ryan and Espo to burst in and save the day."

The two women started a slow and awkward climb up the side of the stack of boxes, having only three feet or so until they reached the top. They eventually made it, both stopping to catch their breath. Ricki cringed at the sensation of the cuffs digging into her wrist, while Kate stole a glimpse toward the ground to see the tiger stalking, growling low in its throat and eyeing them.

If it really wanted to, the tiger could have easily climbed the boxes and taken them.

"Can you reach the window?" Ricki asked between gulps of oxygen.

Looking up, Kate shook her head. "Not unless we find a way to uncuff ourselves. Face it, Castle, we're sitting ducks."

"Bullshit." Ricki shook her head. "I refuse to believe this is how we go out, Beckett. Cat food? Really?" Ricki balled up her fists and stood a little bit taller. "Becoming a meal for Kibbles and Bits down there is not a death befitting of Nikki Heat."

"That's great, Castle, but what are you gonna do: fight the tiger?"

Before Ricki could answer, an explosion from above rocked the warehouse, blowing out the window they had been hoping to use to escape. Ricki dropped to her knees with Kate draped over her, and the tiger snarled as it ran back through the hole in the wall to get away from the broken glass.


	56. Chapter 56: Some Off-Day

_**Author's Note: Bear with me over the next couple weeks, folks. Going through some strange professional stuff, trying to get a new job, and it might slow down my updating progress. But I won't forget about y'all! Reviews are love.**_

* * *

By the time Kate Beckett came to, rolling onto her back against the hard, damp pavement, she grunted and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Not even supposed to be here today…"

Some off-day this had turned out to be. Kate had been called into the precinct anyway because a suspect had refused to speak to anyone but her. Then two people confessed to the same murder, despite the fact that neither one of them could've done it. Then they questioned a shady "doctor" all the way in Sweden before passing out, winding up handcuffed together, and almost being eaten by a tiger.

If that was an off day, Kate seriously needed to find a new line of work.

"Beckett," Ricki Castle groaned, pushing herself onto her elbows and blinking. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Kate huffed and blinked the grogginess out of her eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine. You?"

"Wrist hurts." Ricki sat up, the fact that she was no longer cuffed to her fiancée not registering for her at first - not even as she rubbed her hand over the wrist where the metal had dug into the skin.

"Castle." Kate scrambled back to her feet, a surge of adrenaline making up for the sluggishness that came with regaining consciousness. She grabbed her lover's shoulder and pulled her back to her feet as well, studying their surroundings. It was a dark, otherwise nondescript alley, and the only evidence that they were anywhere near the warehouse in which they had been held was the broken glass all over the pavement.

"We're not cuffed anymore."

"For which I am both glad and disappointed," Ricki quipped. "But how did we get out? Last thing I remember was an explosion."

"After which we must've been pulled out through that window." Kate crouched and examined the shards of broken glass, thankful there was no blood on them. Her wrist was still sore from the cuff digging into it, and her ears were still ringing from the blast, but other than that, she appeared no worse for wear.

"But by whom?" Ricki asked.

"Normally, this would be the part where I warn you about the gift horse and its mouth," Kate muttered as she stood upright again. "But seeing as how there appears to be a human trafficking ring involved in all of this…"

"And for all we know, the tiger ate the horse," Ricki joked.

"We have to find Bauer," Kate said, ignoring her fiancée's crack and marching toward the mouth of the alley. They were still in Manhattan, which was definitely something in their favor, even though they were both without their phones and Kate was without her badge and gun. But if they were still in New York, there were ways to handle the other stuff.

Ricki followed Kate as they exited the alley, her head turning to the right seemingly for no reason. A rusty blue dumpster sat full, almost overflowing, but something else had caught the writer's eye. With a frown, Ricki crept past Kate and wandered to the opposite end of the dumpster. From her earlier vantage point, Ricki had seen a foot sticking out from behind the dumpster.

And now Ricki could see who the foot belonged to.

"Beckett," she called out, pointing at the ground.

Kate joined Ricki with a huff, swallowing hard when she saw the dead man propped up against the brick wall of the warehouse they had somehow escaped from. The man's hair was ghost-white, and now his skin matched. A trail of blood oozed from the left side of the man's chest, his lifeless eyes staring skyward.

Kate shook her head. "That's Bauer."

"I liked this case a lot better when it was just two people confessing to the same murder."

"We're not that far from the Fifty-Fourth," Kate said with a glance over her shoulder. "We get there, they should be able to help us."

"Don't bother," a gravely male voice said from behind. Both women whirled around to see a tall man in a scruffy white beard dressed in military fatigues, wearing a black Kevlar vest and hoisting a semi-automatic over his shoulder. Sparkling blue eyes had a twinkle to them, matching the knowing smirk.

"Dad?" Ricki frowned in confusion.

Richard Alexander Rodgers placed the weapon in the holster slung over his shoulder, approaching Kate before pulling her badge and gun out of one of his many pockets. "Nice to see you again, Detective."

Casting a sideways glance at her fiancée, Kate took her implements. "Uh, thank you?"

"Dad, what the hell's going on?"

"Trying to find out who killed Justin Marquette," he answered matter-of-factly.

"What a coincidence." Kate arched a brow. "So are we."

"Justin was an informant for me," Richard explained, the three of them holding a conversation in the middle of Manhattan in the dead of night as if there wasn't a dead body at their feet. "I've been investigating EHI for months, following a steady stream of pre-teen girls being funneled from America to Thailand, from Russia to America, from Slovakia to Brazil… you name it, Bauer's in on it."

"And you think Justin was made."

"I don't think; I know." Richard sighed and clenched his jaw, swatting at Bauer's leg with his combat boot. "Bauer's right-hand man is a guy named Madsen. Bald-headed freak, drives a red van. Started tailing Justin a few weeks ago, the second Bauer started suspecting things weren't on the up-and-up."

Kate shook her head. "And what about Anita and Sam?"

"They're on Madsen's radar, too. Best thing for them right now to stay put in your precinct."

"But why would they confess to killing Justin?" Ricki asked.

"Because as far as they know, they did." Richard nodded in the direction of Bauer's body, a hint of disgust curling his upper lip. "This guy's into some real fucked-up shit. Cognitive recalibration and lots of other stuff I can't pronounce, let alone explain."

Before either Kate or Ricki could respond, Kate's phone rang. Answering the call, keeping the phone on speaker, Kate shook her head. "Beckett."

"_Yo, Beckett, where you been?_"

"Ricki and I were following a lead, Espo," Kate lied as she and Ricki turned their backs to Richard. "Sorry for not checking in first; I didn't think we'd be gone this long."

"_Well, you might wanna get back. Ryan and I found something you definitely need to see._"

"Right, we're on our way." Kate hung up and pocketed her phone before turning her attention back to Richard. "I'm gonna have to call Dispatch, get a unit out here to take care of -"

Kate's voice trailed off when she had turned around again, only to find that both Richard and Bauer's body were gone. Only a blood stain on the pavement gave any hint that Bauer had been propped up against the wall, and there was no sight of Richard anywhere. Not in the alley, not on the sidewalk… nowhere.

"What the…?"

Ricki's eyes lit up. "That was so cool!"

* * *

_The Twelfth…_

The trip back to the precinct took longer than expected, because as soon as Kate and Ricki had slipped into the back of a waiting cab, their stomachs growled in unison. A quick stop to Remy's netted a pair of to-go orders, Kate's usual strawberry shake a momentary reprieve from what had been a strange day.

She had half-expected Ricki to spend the ride waxing poetic about her father's disappearing act, but between scarfing down her burger – it impressed Kate how Ricki could put food away – and a distant, unrecognizable look in the writer's eyes, there wasn't much boasting.

Kate had waited until getting to her desk to start eating, cramming a couple fries into her mouth before Ryan and Esposito had a chance to approach her desk. She wanted to tell them to buzz off for a few minutes, let her finish eating, but the look on Esposito's face told her this was urgent.

"So this whole EHI thing?" he said. "This whole enlightenment, inner peace mumbo jumbo bullshit? Justin Marquette was a part of one of their experiments."

"Ooh, secret experiments." Ricki flashed an excitable grin. "Now we're talkin'."

"It's not what you think," Ryan cautioned before nodding in the direction of Kate's computer monitor. "Check your email."

As soon as Kate brought her machine back out of sleep mode, she saw the attachment from Ryan. She opened it and sat back as the computer's video player opened, grabbing a few more fries and biting into them.

The number _147_ was visible on the screen, before the door swung open and Justin Marquette stood on the other side.

"_Been waiting for you. Come on in_."

Justin turned his back and walked to the black fridge in his hotel room, opening the door and reaching into it. "_Let me get you a water._"

As he said that, a handgun came into view - not unlike the first-person vantage point of videogames like _Doom_. Justin turned toward the other person again and the surprised registered on his face the split second before the gun went off. Justin staggered backward, dropping the water bottle and grabbing a red chair on his way to the floor.

Both Ricki and Kate glanced back up at Ryan and Esposito, eyes wide and mouths hung open. "We have video footage of the murder?"

Ryan cringed. "Not… exactly. A month ago, EHI hired Justin to film the video you just saw. The idea was to show the video to EHI test subjects while they were in a medically-induced suggestive state."

Ricki stared at the screen again, frozen on Justin Marquette bleeding on the floor. "Why?"

"It was a way for the test subjects to project their problems onto Justin. They could blame Justin - or rather, what they saw of him on the video - for their issues, and the shooting was supposed to be their way of exorcising their demons."

"So obviously, whoever killed Justin knew about that job." Kate chewed on her lip before reaching for her shake. "Anyone else we know of affiliated with EHI?"

"Just our two confessors," Esposito explained. "And I don't think showing them this video's a good idea. They're confused enough already."

Frowning at the fact that she had already drank her milkshake, Kate tossed the empty cup into a nearby trash can and stretched out the tension in her back. "But if Justin was only there for a simple acting job, how did he stumble upon the human trafficking ring?"

Ryan's frown deepened. "The what?"

"That lead we were following," Ricki explained, practically jumping out of her chair and approaching the murder board. "Justin Marquette's murder is a classic case of someone who saw or knew something he shouldn't have. Dr. Gustavo Bauer has been involved in international human trafficking rings: children, especially. Justin knew about it and was about to talk to the feds."

"And," Kate added, "we have reason to believe Anita and Sam knew about the ring as well. Bauer has a right-hand man, bald guy named Madsen who drives a red van. That's all we have on him, but Ryan, check security and traffic-cam footage in areas Anita and Sam have frequented in recent weeks. Maybe we'll get a hit."

Esposito stared at the two women with a suspicious glare, shaking his head. "And how did you get all of that?"

Kate shrugged as she pushed herself out of her chair and grabbed her purse. Ricki was at her side almost immediately. "Same way you guys got the video of Justin being shot. We detected."

* * *

_Ricki's loft…_

Kate studied her fiancée as they walked through the front door; Ricki had been uncharacteristically quiet on the drive from the precinct. In Kate's experience, a quite Ricki was a pensive Ricki. Sometimes, it meant a brooding Ricki. Kate hung her coat on the railing of the stairwell before tossing her keys onto the island in the middle of Ricki's kitchen.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." Ricki pursed her lips and gave a tight nod. "I just… seeing my father again…"

"Still weird, huh?"

"Yeah." Ricki shook her head. "For decades, there was nothing, and now twice in the last several months he's shown up just in the nick of time to bail us out of something. He gets Alexis back, he helps get you your job back, he saves us from that tiger…"

"Yet he's never around for other stuff," Kate finished.

Ricki shook his head before a muffled sound coming from the bedroom caught both women's attention. Ricki and Kate exchanged a confused glance before they both fell into silence, as if they were waiting for the noise again. It did in fact return, something akin to pained grunt. Bringing a finger to her lips, Kate reached for the service piece still on her hip and tiptoed in the direction of Ricki's office.

Ricki followed as quietly as she could after taking off her heels, thankful for thick carpeting in her office and leading into her bedroom. The door was cracked open and one of the bedside lamps was on, and another pained grunt - definitely male - caught their attention.

Kate glanced over her shoulder before quietly pushing the door open. Her gun was clutched in both hands, parallel with her hip, and Kate's heart skipped a beat when she caught sight of Ricki's bed: specifically, the sight of Richard Rodgers laid up on the far side of the mattress, his shirt unbuttoned and blood-stained.

Martha was hunched over Richard, a threaded needle in her hand. Balled-up rags and paper towels were strewn about the bed and Martha's lap, stained with blood much like the older woman's fingers. Richard hissed when the needle passed through his side again, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut.

"Martha," Kate lowered her gun. "What the…?"

Ricki covered her hand with her mouth, her eyes wide. "Dad?"

Martha looked up, the bags under her eyes dark. "Rebecca, Katherine… I wanna say this isn't what it looks like, but it is."


	57. Chapter 57: Not What it Looks Like

_**Author's Note: To the anon who left a review the other night - I am so glad you decided to give this fic another try, and I'm even more glad that it grew to be one of your favorites. This is one of my favorite things to write, and I'm glad others are having as much fun reading it as I am writing it. Regarding the M scenes, there are a few reasons that they're done the way they are. **_

_**A - I'm not great at writing that sort of thing, so when it happens, it doesn't last very long. B - The constant interruptions done for comedic effect are a staple of the show, and to an extent, they work here in this fic as well. But mostly, C - I don't want this fic to ever devolve into male-gaze lesbian fetishizing, and too many sex scenes, too graphic and too often, would turn into that. This is as much a love story as canon is, only between two women instead of a man and a woman. I don't want to do the romance or the mystery a disservice by spending too much time and energy on their X-rated exploits.**_

_**That said... enjoy!**_

* * *

"Is that _my_ side of the bed?!"

Kate Beckett was the textbook definition of incredulous. Briefly, the fact that Ricki Castle's father was suffering from a gunshot wound - and opting for Martha to sew him up rather than get actual medical attention - was inconsequential. "Castle, he's bleeding on _my_ side of the bed!"

"Dad, what the hell?" Ricki set foot in her bedroom, blanching at the blood-soaked rags strewn about the mattress and the large stain on her father's shirt. "You need a doctor!"

"No can do, kiddo." Richard Rodgers grunted as he sat up a little straighter, gritting his teeth and pressing a wet cloth to his side over the freshly-sewn wound. "Unless you know of any doctors who would treat me without asking me dumb shit like what's my name or how I got hurt."

"How did you get hurt?" Kate asked.

"I got shot."

"We see that," Ricki fired back immediately. "Who shot you?"

Richard shook his head and closed his eyes. He pressed the cloth tighter against his side, grunting in pain and clenching his jaw. By the time his eyes opened again, the blue wasn't as striking as it had been before.

"Dad." Ricki leaned over the edge of the bed, close enough to see the beads of sweat running down her father's temples. "Who shot you?"

"You're better off not knowing," Richard grunted. "You two are already in too deep as it is."

Kate arched a disbelieving brow. "Meaning?"

"That's classified." Richard lifted his gaze, some of the color returning to his eyes even though his face was still pale and clammy.

"Of course it is," Ricki muttered with a shake of her head as Kate's phone went off. "Everything's classified with you."

Kate answered her phone, putting it on speaker. "Beckett."

"_Yo. We found our murder weapon._"

The two women perked up, glancing at each other as Ricki got off the bed and turned her back to her father. Kate fought the urge to smile when her eyes locked with Ricki's, and for a moment, it felt as if their surroundings were fading away. "Get CSU on it."

"_Already did. There were no fingerprints, but they did get DNA from a small white hair that had fallen into the chamber._"

"And?"

"_We couldn't find a match to anyone in the system. But Ryan talked to a witness in the alley where we found the weapon and we got a description of the man who used it._"

"That's great, Espo."

_I'm texting you the sketch artist's rendition now._"

On-cue, Kate's phone chimed with the incoming message. She swiped her thumb over the screen to view the message, and her breath caught in her throat when her eyes scanned over the image. Cradling the phone against her chest, Kate glanced at her fiancée and shook her head.

Ricki frowned, dread gnawing at her. "What?"

"Castle…" Reluctantly, Kate revealed her phone screen, showing her fiancée a sketch of a man with short-cropped hair and a beard - who looked suspiciously like the man laid up in her bed with a gunshot wound.

Ricki turned back to stare at her father, her hands curling into fists. "Dad…"

Kate stared at Richard Rodgers were as much anger and disdain as she could without shaking, bringing the phone back to her mouth. "Espo, what kind of gun are we talking?"

"_357 Sig, matches the bullet we found in Justin Marquette's chest._"

"Thanks."

As soon as Kate hung up, Ricki shook her head and climbed onto the bed again. The artist's sketch was still embedded in her brain, and it took every ounce of willpower the writer had not to grab Richard by the collar and truly let her anger go. Not just anger over the thought of Richard Rodgers killing their murder victim, either, but the anger of a lifetime without her father.

A lifetime of wondering and not knowing.

"Dad." When Richard's head listed to the side, Ricki did indeed reach out and tug on his collar. "Dad!"

By the time Richard's eyes opened and he registered the presence next to him on the bed, he looked up and saw Kate standing behind his daughter. Kate Beckett, badass detective who had been the inspiration for at least three novels by this point, every bit as beautiful and wonderful as his daughter deserved… Richard couldn't help but feel a little relief at the thought of his daughter falling in love with a woman, for all of the stereotypical reasons fathers hated their daughters being with boys.

But another tug on his collar broke Richard from his train of thought, and he gasped in pain. His eyes widened and darkened when Kate lifted her phone to show him the sketch artist's work. The resemblance was uncanny.

"Did you kill Justin Marquette?"

"No!" Richard protested a little too vehemently.

"Then how come we found a white hair on the murder weapon and there's a witness who swears that gun is yours?"

"Because I'm being set up." Richard shook his head. "Bauer must've been on to me."

"Is that why you killed him?"

Richard looked up at his daughter, recoiling when he saw the anger in her eyes. He glanced over her shoulder at the detective standing in the doorway, seeing not so much anger as the emotional detachment necessary to do her job at times. In many ways, it was far more unnerving.

"Where's Gustavo Bauer's body?"

"That's classified."

Ricki smacked her father across the cheek before digging her nails into his collar and tugging again. "Don't you fucking _that's classified_ us!"

Kate closed the distance between herself and the bed, pocketing her phone before grabbing Ricki by the shoulder. "Castle… come on, babe." When Ricki didn't let go, Kate reached down, cupped their hands together and gently removed Ricki's fingers from her father's shirt.

The touch slowly registered with the writer, who felt the anger leaving her when she glanced up at Kate. They shared a brief smile before Ricki slowly pulled herself up off the bed and left the room. Kate watched Ricki disappear into her office before turning her attention back to the man laid up in bed.

"Detective…"

"Save it." Kate shook her head. "I don't know who the hell you think you are, but I don't care. You know what I care about? Finding out who killed Justin Marquette. And you better hope for your sake it's not you."

Richard nodded once and pursed his lips. "And my daughter?"

"She's not your daughter," Kate argued. "You made that decision a long time ago."

Kate was out of the room before either Richard or Martha could react.

* * *

_The roof…_

It had been a few months since Ricki had first shown Kate the secret route to the roof just above her loft, showing off the view of SoHo as if it were some secret known only to the writer for all these years. Despite New York City being a veritable concrete jungle, it was easily the most impressive view of the city this side of the Empire State Building.

It was also a prime hiding spot for when either of them wanted some time alone, and Kate had known the second Ricki left her bedroom that this was where she would go. Ricki Castle was nothing if not predictable.

Sure enough, as soon as Kate pushed her way onto the roof, the night air rushing over her face, she could hear the soft sniffles of her fiancée crying. Ricki wasn't a loud crier, most of the time, but the sharp intake of air and the hitch in her shoulders were still enough to send Kate's heart shattering in her chest.

Kate took slow, careful steps until the distance between herself and Ricki was gone. She slipped her arms around Ricki's waist, squeezing when another ragged exhale pushed through the writer's lips. Ricki's hand rested on top of Kate's arms, and the detective rested her chin on Ricki's shoulder.

"Talk to me, Castle."

"I just…" Ricki shook her head. "It took me a long time to get over Martin not being there for Alexis. I was really bitter about that, you know?" The writer swiped a finger under her eye. "Just… how can you bring a child into the world and then not be there for it?"

Kate tightened her hold on Ricki. Relatively speaking, Kate felt fortunate in this regard. Yes, her mother had been tragically murdered, but Kate had already sprung into adulthood before that happened. Her childhood had been full of love and adoration and support from both parents, while Ricki had spent her life in single-parent households - on both sides of the proverbial fence.

"And now your father…"

"I just assumed he disappeared after a night with my mother," Ricki admitted. "But to find out they were married this whole time, and he went so many years without showing up even once… not for a birthday, not for Christmas, never."

Kate turned Ricki to face her, brushing a strand of hair out of the writer's face. "Guess being a spy doesn't help the family life."

Ricki let her forehead rest against Kate's. "Well, he should've thought of that…"

"Hush." Kate playfully slapped Ricki's arm. "If he had, I wouldn't have met the love of my life."

Ricki slipped her arms around Kate's waist at that, nuzzling her face into the rook of the detective's neck. The faint aroma of cherries was familiar to the point of physical comfort, and Ricki could feel the tension rolling off of her shoulders with each deep inhale. Kate was her solid ground in so many different ways, and just when Ricki didn't think she could be more in awe of her fiancée, Kate went and proved her wrong.

"But…" Kate pulled back slightly, grabbing Ricki by the shoulders. "If your dad did kill Justin Marquette, I'm gonna have to arrest him."

"I would never ask you not to, Beckett."

Never mind the fact that arresting Richard would be near impossible given his profession and his connections. This was a man who had been nothing more than a whisper for decades, and even now, he came and went largely as he pleased. He showed up with Alexis on his arm, then he showed up again to save Kate and Ricki from Bauer and his oversized kitty.

Other than that - and a well-timed phone call that helped Kate get her job back - Richard Alexander Rodgers had been nothing but a figment of Ricki's imagination. She couldn't help but wonder if that was what had fueled Derrick Storm over the years. Though Ricki had to admit that the fantasy of covert spy ops was much more fun than the reality.

Her stomach churned every time she thought of her father taking a life.

Kate pulled Rick into another tight hug, running her fingers through the writer's dark hair as her hazel eyes scanned the skyline and what few stars could be seen. One of the few drawbacks of living in this city: the stars were almost impossible to see most nights. Still, every once in a while, Kate thought she could see one or two from up here.

"Promise me something, Kate."

Pulling out of the hug and caressing Ricki's cheek, Kate nodded once. "Name it."

"Don't let me make the mistake of thinking that man is family." Anger flashed briefly in Ricki's eyes, only to be replaced with the same hurt and disappointment that came up the last time Richard had flashed in and out of her life. "He's not family. You are."

A soft smile crept onto Kate's face. "Would it help if I shot him?"

Ricki's posture straightened, her brow scrunching in confusion. "You'd use your gun on my father?" When Kate faltered and opened her mouth, Ricki broke into a small, rueful smile. "I'm touched."

Kate pulled Ricki into her arms again, kissing her fiancée's temple. The late hour had sleepiness tugging at Kate's body, her eyelids heavy. Yet here, with the stars above and the world at their feet, she couldn't think of anywhere she would rather be than holding the woman she loved.

* * *

_Ricki's loft…_

An awkward silence had fallen upon Martha and Richard when the two women had left the bedroom, and Martha busied herself with cleaning up the blood-soaked rags and other materials after patching up the spy's gunshot wound. The bullet had lodged itself in his side, but it had missed any organs - which was the only reason Martha was able to get to it.

"That was a hell of a night," Richard said with a sideways grin on his face, the crinkle around his eyes making them stand out far more than usual. Even though he was still in pain, his face still lit up like a Christmas tree when he smiled.

"Hell of a night." Martha forced herself not to smile.

"You ever think about what might've happened?" Richard asked. "If I had stayed?"

"I used to think that every day," Martha admitted, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Those days when I was on the road for months at a time, Rebecca was getting in trouble in school… when money was hard to come by…"

"But she made it," Richard beamed with pride. "You both did."

"We did." Martha dipped her head, strands of red blocking her face from view. She thought of reaching out for Richard's hand, but the dried blood on his fingers gave her pause. "What about you? You ever wish you'd stayed?"

Richard pursed his lips and nodded once. "All the time."

Martha did reach out for Richard's hand this time, and their fingers immediately interlocked. It was almost muscle memory, as strong as ever despite the years that had passed with them apart. Their eyes met and Richard's smile widened - though with the pain in his side, the smile more closely resembled a grimace.

"I really am sorry, Martha." He sighed. "For so many things."

"Don't be," Martha said, patting Richard's hand. "You did what you had to do."

"I picked the wrong career for having a family," he said wistfully, shaking his head before pushing himself a little more upright with a grimace. The stitches on his side pulled and a jolt of pain shot up his spine. "Ugh, dammit…"

"Do you need anything, Richard?"

"Could use something to drink, if you don't mind," Richard answered as he adjusted the pillow on his lower back, gritting his teeth. "Some juice, if you've got it."

Giving Richard a far softer smile than she ever imagined she would again, Martha rose from the bed and crossed from her daughter's office, though the living area, and into the kitchen. Despite the long years between the last time they had shared a bed - in _any_ context - this felt far more natural than Martha had expected.

She loved Richard; that had never changed. Even when she was furious with him for disappearing for years on end, too busy doing Uncle Sam's dirty work to be the doting father he once confessed to wanting to be. She resented her country for that sometimes, that whatever Richard was doing was far more important than raising a daughter.

Then again… Alexis was alive and safe because of Richard. Kate was once again gainfully employed because of Richard. Richard had never been the traditional father. He didn't hold cookouts on holidays, and he never accompanied the family on vacations to the Hamptons. But he had saved her granddaughter - and who knew what else over the years.

Richard loved his family. Logically, she understood that. Even if some part of her still wished they could've had those decades back. Martha wanted to believe Richard would retire and settle down to a nice civilian life someday soon, but she knew that was pie-in-the-sky thinking.

Glass of juice now in-hand, Martha returned to her daughter's bedroom. Once she got past the threshold, though, the redhead stopped in her tracks, her mouth agape. The glass in her hand fell to the floor, juice spilling all over the carpeting.

Aside from the bloodstain on the sheets, Ricki's bed was empty.


	58. Chapter 58: Rabbit Hole

_**Author's Note: You know, this story hasn't gotten real angst-y in a while. What's say we start changing that up a little, hm?**_

* * *

"What do you mean, he's gone?"

"Exactly what I said!" Martha Rodgers was exasperated and beside herself. She had gone no further than the kitchen to pour a glass of juice and by the time she got back, Richard Rodgers was gone. None of the windows were open - and even if they were, Ricki's loft was so high up that Richard would've had to grow wings to get out safely - and the front door was latched shut.

"Good luck finding him," Ricki said, anger dripping from her tone. "Guy like that won't get found unless he wants to be."

Pulling her phone out of her pocket, Kate shook her head. "I'm putting in an APB on the bastard anyway." But before she could, her phone rang. Frowning in confusion and irritation, Kate swiped her thumb over the screen. "Beckett."

"_Yo. We got something._"

"Something good?"

"_Better than good_," Ryan chimed in. "_We asked Anita and Sam about that Madsen guy you told us about, and they both said they remember seeing a bald man in a red van following them around two weeks ago_."

"Two weeks ago," Ricki repeated. "That's around the time they started feeling foggy."

Kate nodded. "Do we have a visual on this guy?"

"_As a matter of fact, we do._" Ryan's voice went quiet and the sound of paper rustling came over the line. "_Traffic cam footage near 54__th__ and Lex. We showed our two confessors an image of him and they both say that's the guy._"

"Great. Where is he now?"

"_That's the bad news_," Esposito said. "_He's gone completely off the grid. None of our usual tracking monitors have found this guy. We have to think that Madsen might be a fake ID._"

"_But we're still circulating his photo and ID to TSA and all the proper state and federal channels._"

"Good." Kate nodded. "Keep me posted."

As Kate hung up, Ricki stood at her side, shaking her head. "They won't find him."

* * *

_Somewhere…_

Richard Rodgers grunted when a red van pulled up to the damp alley in which he was hidden. He had kept to the shadows, the smoke billowing from a lit cigar the only clue that he was there. The stitches in his side pulled, and Richard grimaced every time he moved. The gun in the holster under his jacket felt heavier than usual, and Richard's eyes drooped.

He was exhausted, and the pain of being shot earlier didn't help. His jaw clenched when the van came to a complete stop and the heavy door slammed shut. His piercing blue eyes ignited in anger at the sight of Madsen, and it was all Richard could do not to shoot him on sight.

But patience was key here. Even if every nerve in his body screamed otherwise.

"You're lucky you missed my kidneys," Richard growled.

"Hey, you're the one who said you needed it to look real," Madsen countered, removing a pair of black leather gloves and shoving them into his pocket. "What about the women?"

"They're not your concern," Richard bit back with a hint of venom in his voice.

"Considering you were shot trying to save them, I'd say they are," Madsen argued. "C'mon, Hunt, what's the deal with you?"

The use of one of Richard's many codenames struck him as odd, his lips curling into an angry sneer. Using the shadows enveloping him to his advantage, Richard pulled the gun from its holster. By the time Madsen registered that there was a weapon trained on him, the gun had been fired and the bullet tore a hole in his forehead.

"I'm tired of your bullshit," he said.

By the time Madsen's lifeless body dropped to the ground, Richard holstered his weapon and strode to the back of the van. Pulling the doors open, Richard revealed a work station that featured three laptops with high-speed Ethernet connections and a stack of file folders in the far corner.

The center laptop was the only screen illuminated, and Richard squinted to take in its contents. The screen outlined information on Victoria Gates, the former interim captain of the NYPD's Twelfth Precinct who Richard helped put away due to her connections to Senator Bracken. Why was Madsen looking into her?

Richard glanced at the stack of folders to his right. The top folder had a photograph pinned to the front cover with a paperclip; specifically, a photograph of Bracken. Not his prim-and-proper Congressional head shot, either, with the perfectly coiffed hair and the American flag in the background.

No, this was his mugshot. Eyes full of seething hatred and anger, a sneer on his face that told the camera and anyone else who could see him that this wasn't over, that one day those who had wronged him would get their comeuppance.

What did Gates and Bracken have to do with all this? Richard had operated under the assumption that this had been nothing more than a human trafficking ring disguised as a self-help organization. All of Richard's intel to this point had led him to believe Gustavo Bauer was the ringleader.

With Bauer and Madsen now dead… this was supposed to be over, right?

* * *

_Ricki's loft…_

A late-night storm had rolled its way into New York, soaking the city in a sheet of water. It pelted violently against the window in Ricki's office, and she found herself standing near the glass, arms folded over herself as she watched the rain fall and lightning occasionally illuminating the sky.

She had lost track of how long she had stood in that spot, losing herself in the turmoil outside. For so many years, Ricki had pushed aside any feelings of confusion or hurt or resentment when it came to not knowing who her father was. Why did she even need a father? For all of her faults, Martha had been a wonderful mother. Ricki had built herself a fantastically successful career, she had raised a wonderful daughter, and she was set to marry the love of her life.

Who cared if there was no father around for all of that?

But that first time Richard had shown up, fresh off of saving Alexis from her kidnapper, Ricki had been hit with questions and emotions she had never expected. Ricki honestly expected to go her entire life without knowing who her father was, and despite the emotions that entailed, she had made her peace with it.

But seeing him in the flesh, finding out he and Martha had been wed the entire time… Ricki began imagining how her childhood might have been different had Richard actually been there. Logically, she knew he did what he had to do, what his job required. But Ricki couldn't ignore the way her stomach dropped and her heart broke every time she laid eyes on him.

The warmth of a pair of arms wrapping around Ricki's midsection from behind broke her trance, and the writer leaned back until her fiancée's cheek was resting on her shoulder. Ricki reached down to run the palm of her hand back and forth along Kate's forearm.

"You okay?"

"You know," Ricki started, not really sure how to answer, "I love a good mystery. Hell, I've made a damn good living off them. But when _I'm_ the mystery, it's not so fun."

Kate frowned. "I'm not sure I follow."

"Who is my father? I mean, really?" Ricki shrugged and shook her head. "And who does all of that make me?"

"Castle…" Kate slipped out from behind Ricki before standing in front of her. She cradled the writer's face in her hands, frowning at the sight of tear streaks. She opened her mouth to speak, but the heartbreaking sight stole her words for a brief moment. "Whoever Richard Rodgers is has nothing to do with who you've become."

"But if he had been here -"

"But he wasn't." Kate shook her head. "He wasn't, and that's on him. He had every opportunity to be a father to you and be a part of your life, and he didn't do it. That's _his_ fault, Ricki, not yours. He chose his own personal rabbit hole over you. Look…" Kate sighed and took Ricki's hands into her own. "Even if he didn't kill Justin Marquette, he's not family. Martha and Alexis are. I am. You have all the family you need right here in this loft."

Ricki's face broke into a watery smile as she reached up to cup Kate's face in her hands. Her fingers caressed the detective's cheeks and a tear slipped down Ricki's face as she closed the distance for a kiss. They held the kiss for as long as they had the oxygen, before Ricki broke the liplock with a sniffle.

"God, I can't wait to marry you…"

Kate's smile broadened and she opened her mouth to speak, but a knock on the front door ruined the moment just as it was about to blossom into something special. The two women glared at each other in a mixture of confusion and _you've-got-to-be-kidding-me_ annoyance, and the scowl on Ricki's face deepened when she realized Martha wasn't answering the door.

With a sigh and a shake of her head, Ricki walked out of her office and closed the distance along the foyer to the front door. She pulled the door open and her brow furrowed even more at the sight of a tall male figure in her doorway. His three-piece suit looked like it cost as much as her last book advance, and his dark hair was wavy against his temples.

"Um… hi. Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for a Katherine Beckett," the man announced, his brow arching when he saw another woman approach the door from behind the dark-haired woman who had greeted him.

"That's me," Kate said with a frown.

The man whipped what appeared to be a black leather wallet from the inside of his suit coat, opening it to reveal a gold badge. "My name is Roger McCord, I work on a task force with the Attorney General's office. Is there somewhere private we can talk?"

Kate shook her head. "What's this about?"

"I'd really rather not be standing in the middle of a hallway."

Ricki cocked her head to the side and took a step back. "Get in here. We can talk in my office."

* * *

_Somewhere…_

The orange prison garb hung loosely off Victoria Gates' shoulders, the bags under her eyes only darkened by the harsh lights above. She took a seat in front of a plane of a bulletproof glass, her eyes expressionless as she reached to her right and grabbed for the black telephone mounted to the wall.

Bringing the receiver to her ear, she shook her head. "You here to rub it in?"

Richard Rodgers wore a scowl on the other side of the glass, his free hand pressed against the wound in his side. The stitches were still relatively fresh, and the offending spot still throbbed if he moved the wrong way. Physically speaking, he was not at his best, but the last thing Richard could afford right now was to stop and rest.

And he certainly didn't need to be back in that loft.

"You and Bracken," he said. "How did you tie to Gustavo Bauer and EHI?"

Gates never missed a beat. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Cut the shit, Victoria." Richard leaned forward, resting his elbow on the surface in front of him as his free hand balled into a fist. "He and that lackey Madsen had information on the two of you. Fairly recent info, at that. Come on, what was it? Was Bracken Bauer's pawn just like you were Bracken's?"

"Gustavo Bauer was a pawn," she countered. "Just like the rest of us."

Richard's eyes narrowed. "Meaning?"

Gates glanced over her shoulder, even though she was the only one in the room. The guard who had escorted her into the visitor's area was standing on the other side of the heavy door behind her. Other than the pane of glass and the gray-haired spy, she was all alone.

"William Bracken had a partner," she said. "Someone high on the food chain, much higher than even him. I never met the man. Never saw his face, never got a name. He's intelligence. He was the benefactor in all of Bracken's operations."

A rueful smile crept onto Richard's face. "I always knew Bracken wasn't smart enough to do all this on his own."

"Oh, William was plenty smart," Gates argued. "And resourceful. And ruthless. That's why this guy picked him. But he didn't put all his eggs in the William Bracken basket. This guy had feelers all over the place. Bauer and his human trafficking ring was just one of many."

"Kate Beckett is onto Bauer's scheme," Richard explained, suppressing the urge to smile at the flare of anger in Gates' eyes upon hearing _that_ name. "Justin Marquette was all set to talk to the feds about Bauer's ring and he wound up murdered. In her jurisdiction. As it is, she thinks I did it."

Gates arched a brow. "Did you?"

"No. The only people I've killed lately are Bauer and Madsen."

"Well, aren't you the good Samaritan." Gates leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowing as she studied the man seated across from her. "You know… it's a wonder she's still alive. As many times as she's poked the proverbial bear. I knew the deal with her, even back when I was in Internal Affairs. She was as stubborn and relentless as they came, driving herself into the ground trying to figure out who killed Mommy Dearest."

"And now she doesn't have to worry about that anymore."

"Hm. You'd think that, wouldn't you?"

Richard's eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Come on," Gates said with a shrug. "She dismantled Bracken's empire. He's behind bars, as am I. And no thanks to you, Gustavo Bauer and Vulcan Simmons are both dead. Sooner or later, this partner of his is going to want retribution."

"All the more reason for me to track the son of a bitch down and take him out."

"Well, you better hurry." A dark smile crossed Gates' lips. "Before your daughter winds up in the crossfire."


	59. Chapter 59: Thicker Than Water

_**Author's Note: Dun-dun-duuuuuuuun!**_

* * *

_The next morning…_

"Any particular reason you didn't tell Agent McCord where your father is?" Kate asked, peering through the windshield at the slowly developing crime scene. Detectives Ryan and Esposito were already on the scene in the alley, directing uniformed officers and taking down preliminary notes. From where they were parked, Kate and Ricki couldn't see the body.

Ricki shrugged, sipping on her coffee. "Because I don't know."

"But you also neglected to mention that he had been in your loft."

"What can I say, Beckett?" Ricki glanced out the side-view mirror on the passenger's side. "I haven't exactly had good luck with male federal agents showing up in my home."

"This isn't Sorenson, Castle," Kate shot back with a chuckle. "I'd never met McCord before last night."

"Yeah, but did you see the way he was eyeing you?"

"Yes, right up until the moment I made sure he could see my engagement ring." Kate shook her head. "Besides, I figured you'd be all over his story. Vast government conspiracy and all that?"

"Except the part about my father? To say nothing of the fact that McCord was clearly keeping something from us."

Kate dipped her head. McCord had spun quite the tale the previous night, something worthy of a Derrick Storm novel. But the most damning part of it, the insinuation that Richard Rodgers was not an agent for Uncle Sam - and might not have ever been - had left Ricki's office heavy with tension.

Even as she spent the rest of the night and morning cracking jokes, Ricki's eyes were still darker than normal.

"Yeah, I guess." Kate reached out and gave Ricki's hand a squeeze. "C'mon, we got another murder to solve."

"Well, we got good news and bad news," Esposito announced as soon as Kate and Ricki emerged from the police cruiser. The morning sun was just starting to spill out from over top of the buildings, and both cop and writer were nursing steaming Styrofoam cups.

"Gimme the bad first, Espo," Kate ordered.

"Thing is," Kevin Ryan joined the trio, his hands already blue with latex, "they're one in the same. We found Madsen."

Before either Kate or Ricki could reply, they caught sight of the bald man laying lifeless on the pavement. A perfect circle on his forehead left a small trail of dried blood running down over his right temple, lifeless eyes staring skyward.

"Guessing we don't have to ask about cause of death," Ricki said.

"Oh, it gets better," Esposito chimed in, motioning with two fingers for Kate and Ricki to follow. CSU had just rolled onto the scene, applying far too much yellow crime scene tape as Dr. Parish and her team began examining the body. Cause of death was self-explanatory, but if anyone could take even the most obvious murder and discover something untoward, it was Lanie.

Kate and Lanie shared a brief smile before the detective and Ricki followed Esposito. A red van sat several feet away from Madsen's body, the left-side rear door swung wide open. Several computer monitors were visible from the outside, though at this angle, it was impossible to discern what was on them.

"Red van," Esposito said. "Just like the one Anita and Sam told us about."

Handing her coffee cup to Ricki, Kate slipped on her own pair of latex gloves before reaching up and pulling her hair into a ponytail. "Anything of interest back there?"

His brow arching in a knowing manner, Esposito nodded toward the door. "See for yourself."

Kate and Ricki exchanged a worried glance, because _that_ didn't sound ominous or anything, before Kate pushed the other door open and the pair stepped into the back of the van. As soon as Kate glanced to her left and saw the mugshot of Victoria Gates plastered onto the center monitor, her heart skipped a beat.

"Castle," she said with a hitch in her breath, reaching for her fiancée's arm.

Ricki turned to look in the same direction, the raggedness of Kate's voice giving her pause, and she nearly dropped the cups in her hand when she saw the monitor. Her breath momentarily left her, but Ricki forced herself to suck in a deep inhale before taking a seat in the swivel chair in front of the computers.

"Isn't Gates in prison?" she asked.

"Her corruption trial starts next week," Kate explained.

"Now what would Gustavo Bauer want with Victoria Gates?" Ricki asked.

"Whatever it is, maybe it's what got Madsen killed."

Ricki shook her head. "No… I think I already know who killed Madsen." Off Kate's confused glare, Ricki shrugged. "Think about it. We stumble upon Bauer's dead body, who shows up? Who disappeared last night, just before we figured out who Madsen was?"

"Castle, you think your father killed Madsen?"

"Why else would he just disappear like that?"

"Okay." Kate sat back and folded her arms over her chest. "Say your theory's right. How does it connect to Gates?"

"Easy." Ricki shrugged. "Who put Gates away in the first place?"

Kate chewed on her lip, mulling it over. The thought wasn't a pleasant one, because Gates was brought down for her connection to Senator Bracken. But if she also connected to Gustavo Bauer somehow - and the monitor in front of her wasn't telling her any different - she shuddered to think what the implications were.

But more than that, Kate cursed her fortune. She arrested Senator Bracken. She brought down the man responsible for her mother's murder. No, William Bracken hadn't been the one who stuck the knife in Johanna's gut, but he had given the order. In the world of Homicide, the order to kill was just as heinous as the act of murder itself.

Especially when the victim was family.

"Kate…"

The dread in Ricki's voice cut through Kate's trance, and by the time she looked up, Kate brought a hand up to her mouth and her eyes widened. She shook with fear and a stomach-churning sense of realization, shaking her head. Staring right through her, with all the anger and disdain of a man whose empire had fallen, was Senator Bracken.

"What the…" Kate snatched the folder out of Ricki's grasp, shaking her head and willing the tears building in her eyes not to fall. It didn't matter that Bracken was behind bars; the mere sight of him, the mere sound of his name, was almost enough to make Kate sick. "No. This can't… no."

"I think we need to give Agent McCord a call."

* * *

_Somewhere…_

The maximum-security prison located in upstate New York was almost abandoned. At least, that was the vibe it gave off, with half the lights in the facility burnt out, the walls only a few shades above pitch black, and the fact that most of the inmates were isolated in the back of the facility, almost never crossing paths with each other.

It was the sort of place Roger McCord liked to avoid if he could help it, but the case was unraveling at a dizzying pace. Gustavo Bauer had been on the feds' radar for almost three years, but it wasn't until Justin Marquette wound up dead that McCord's task force had linked Bauer to Victoria Gates - who herself had unsavory associations.

One association in particular interested McCord.

McCord straightened his navy blue tie when another heavy door swung open. He kept his best poker face as one of the prisoners emerged from the other side and trudged his way to the pane of glass separating him from the agent. As soon as the prisoner sat, wearing the same smug grin he had worn throughout much of his career, McCord reached for the black telephone receiver hanging from the wall.

"William Bracken," he greeted.

"That's _Senator _Bracken to you," the prisoner sneered.

"Not anymore, it's not." McCord shook his head. "Don't think they let you keep your title when you get led out of your own press conference in handcuffs."

Bracken's jaw clenched. "There a point to this visit, or are you just here to bust my balls?"

"Roger McCord, special agent with the Attorney General's office. I wanna know everything you can tell me about Gustavo Bauer."

Bracken's eyebrow twitched, but otherwise, his face gave away nothing. "I don't know who that is."

"We have evidence that suggests otherwise."

"And what are you gonna do about it?" Bracken asked with a shrug. "I'm already looking at spending the rest of my life in this dump."

"Justin Marquette is dead."

Bracken's posture straightened and he tightened his grip on the phone. Eyes that only seconds before were full of anger and disdain widened. Bracken pushed himself away from the glass separating him from Agent McCord, his head shaking. "No."

McCord cocked his head to the side. "Oh, so you _do_ know something."

Bracken glanced over his shoulder. When he turned his attention back to Agent McCord, his eyes were frantic, darting back and forth. The tension was practically radiating off of his body. "I know that you're as good as dead if you keep going with this."

McCord frowned. "Is that a _threat_?"

"No. It's a promise." Bracken shook his head. "And I'm just as dead as you."

"What are you talking about? We can put you in protective custody."

Bracken pushed himself out of his chair with a hysterical laugh, staggering further away from the glass and losing his grip on the phone. "Don't you see?!" he yelled. "Justin Marquette was killed for what he knew!"

"And what would that be, exactly?" McCord pressed. "You sound like you were chummy with the guy."

"The acting gigs were just a cover," Bracken explained. "He spent some time working in my office when I was in the Senate, but mostly, he was our mole."

McCord shot a questioning look. "Mole."

"He was a nobody. Someone so unrecognizable that he could get in, do things I needed him to do, and get back out." Bracken gave a noncommittal shrug. "Not all of my connections were influential and powerful."

"So if Marquette was so inconsequential, what got him killed?" McCord stole a glance over his shoulder. For a maximum-security facility, the guards were giving he and Bracken an awful lot of space. "Was it LockSat?"

Bracken closed the distance between himself and the glass, pressing a palm against the surface. His eyes widened even more, which McCord thought hadn't been possible. "What did you… how do you know about that?"

"Running through Bauer's files after his death, it came up," McCord explained. "We've also seen it in our investigation since Madsen was murdered."

"Shouldn't that tell you something?" Bracken shook his head. "Everyone who knows about LockSat is dead. If they're not? They will be soon. And that includes you and me."

McCord nodded in understanding. "Someone wants to keep LockSat under wraps."

"The same way I kept the mafia extortion ring quiet," Bracken said. "Every time someone poked around at it, they wound up dead."

"Until a certain detective came along."

Bracken's nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. "You know what? If you happen to see that detective, or her little pet writer, before your inevitable death, I want you to give them a message for me: go to hell." Pushing himself off the glass, Bracken crossed to the other side of the room and banged his fist against the door. As it opened, he glared at McCord again.

"We're done here. Better start running."

* * *

_Outside the Twelfth…_

"So, wait," Anita Miller said, holding the door to the Twelfth Precinct open for Sam Carson as they exited the police station, "they're together?"

Anita and Sam were still persons of interest in the Justin Marquette case, but seeing as how they weren't suspects, they were free to leave the precinct and return home - with the understanding that they would return when called upon again to answer more questions or provide more insight into what was turning into an exasperating case.

Not that either of them were showing that stress.

"Notice the rock on that Detective's hand?" Sam asked with an exaggerated eyebrow wiggle.

"Well, yeah," Anita said as they rounded a street corner into a nearby alley. It was a shortcut to the pizza place where she and Sam had agreed to grab a slice once the detectives had let them go. "I just thought there was some guy in the picture."

"Nope." Sam wore a smug, self-satisfied grin, his hands stuffed into his pockets. "No guy. Detective Beckett is totally with that writer chick."

Anita shook her head and pursed her lips, ready to throw a rejoinder Sam's way - it was remarkable how well they had gotten along since this whole mess started - when she heard a _pop_ in the distance. Before she could glance over her shoulder to look in the direction from which the sound came, she saw Sam stumble forward until he fell face-first into the pavement.

His choking sounds were brief and sickening, and Anita's stomach lurched when she saw the small bloody hole in the back of his neck. Her face went pale and her fingers trembled.

By the time Anita turned back to where she had heard the sound, another _pop_ filled the night air. The time, Anita fell straight back, her body splayed out over Sam's considerable back. A hole in her forehead oozed blood, matching the same mark in Sam's neck. Her eyes stared wide into the night sky, but the life that had been there just seconds before was now gone.

Blocks away, a female form dressed from chin to toe in black set down her military-grade sniper rifle. The black ski cap that held off the wind hid a head of short-cropped red hair. The woman's gaze was steely, ice cold, as her hand reached into her pocket to grab for a small black flip phone. She opened the device and pressed it to her ear.

"Targets Miller and Carson down," she announced. "Who's next?"


	60. Chapter 60: Spiraling

**_Author's Note: So... I guess it's been a while, huh? Sorry about that. Between work picking up and putting the finishing touches on my next novel and writing two others... I guess my fics were the thing that got left behind. But I'm working on changing that, and I hope you all are still along for the ride. Reviews are love!_**

* * *

_Outside the Twelfth…_

"I think I liked this case better when it was just multiple people confessing to the same murder."

Kate Beckett had nothing to say in response, too transfixed by the image of Sam Carson and Anita Miller's bodies piled together on the sidewalk not that far from the NYPD's Twelfth Precinct. Near as preliminary assessments could gather, the pair had left the station earlier in the night, only to have a sniper gun them down.

What had started as the simple murder of a struggling actor in his hotel room had spiraled into a conspiracy that linked all the way back to the man who murdered her mother. The realization had weighed down on Kate since the discovery in the back of that red van, and she had the bitter taste of bile in the back of her throat ever since.

Seeing the bullet hole in Anita's forehead only added to the dread. Kate stood off to the side, hands stuffed into the pockets of her tan overcoat. She couldn't tear her eyes from that bullet hole, or the trail of dried blood that ran down the side of Anita's face.

"Beckett."

The lump in Kate's throat only grew tighter, and she clenched her hands into fists just so she didn't have to feel her fingers trembling. It took several deep breaths to get her heart rate back to normal, but by the time Kate managed that, she found breathing more difficult. It came in short, ragged gasps.

"Kate."

It took a few moments for her fiancée's voice to register – and even when it did, it sounded like an echo off in the distance. But the detective finally tore her eyes from the bodies in front of her to look at Ricki, blinking back her fog.

"I'm fine, Castle."

"No." The dark-haired writer approached and grabbed Kate's elbow. "No, you're not. And you know you're not."

Again, Kate's eyes took in the bullet hole. "You think they felt anything?"

"Doubtful," Lanie Parish answered, tucking her pen behind her right ear before rising out of her crouch. "Both vics were shot in the forehead. My guess, death was instant."

Kate clenched her jaw with a nod, ducking her head before Ricki squeezed her elbow. The gesture caught the detective's attention, and by the time hazel eyes rose to meet the writer's, Kate let her shoulders slump. Every instinct told Kate to bury herself in this case, devote every waking moment to finding out who shot Anita and Sam. But something tugged at her subconscious, something that told Kate that wasn't what she needed to do right now.

It was disconcerting, a sensation with which she was horribly unfamiliar. Kate had never met a case she felt the urge to back away from, but what else could she do here? If nothing else, Captain McNulty would likely pull her from the case now that it was clearly connecting back to her mother's murder. And he would be right to.

"I thought this was over," she whispered against Ricki's shoulder.

It was supposed to be. She had led William Bracken away in handcuffs, brought him down for the conspiracy that ultimately led to Johanna Beckett's murder. A ruthless politician had done everything he could to keep the actions of three dirty cops under wraps, for his own personal benefit, and along the way, he altered the life of a 19-year-old girl.

That same girl who had eventually been his downfall. His arrest, his fall from grace, was supposed to be the end of it. The act of slapping the cuffs on his wrists had been nothing short of cathartic, and some of the most peaceful nights Kate had experienced in years came after she had put him away.

But if Agent McCord's warnings were true – and the two bodies splayed out before Kate gave her no reason to doubt him – then things were so much worse than originally thought.

"Let me take you home, Kate," Ricki muttered into the detective's ear.

Detectives Ryan and Esposito were already handling the preliminaries, while Lanie coordinated the transfer of the two bodies from the sidewalk into their respective gurneys for transport back to the morgue. Uniformed officers were conducting interviews of their own and taping off the crime scene.

It was a well-oiled machine, same as it always was.

"We need to talk to someone," Kate whispered.

"Like who?" Ricki cocked her head to the side. "Agent McCord?"

Kate shook her head and stared at her feet. "I was thinking Victoria Gates."

* * *

_Somewhere…_

As soon as Victoria Gates entered the visitor's lounge and set eyes on the detective and writer awaiting her, she burst into disbelieving laughter. The outburst lasted until she reached the chair sitting in front of a pane of smudged bulletproof glass, and Gates didn't stop laughing until she reached for the black telephone receiver.

"Took you two long enough," she teased.

"Victoria Gates," Kate greeted with no emotion on her face. Whatever inner turmoil she had been experiencing since discovering those two bodies outside the precinct, she had managed to bottle it up and store it away for later.

"And you brought the writer," Gates added with a smug grin. "She must _really_ know how to use that mouth of hers if you've kept her around this long."

Ricki's hands curled into fists before Kate's free hand rested on her wrist. Only when the writer's fingers unfurled, did the detective return her attention to the glass. "Gustavo Bauer. Name ring a bell?"

Gates shrugged and shook her head. "Can't say that it does."

"Funny," Ricki chimed in, "because as it turns out, Bauer and this guy named Madsen knew an awful lot about you. And Senator Bracken, for that matter. Only now… both Bauer and Madsen are dead, as are Justin Marquette, Anita Miller, and Sam Carson."

"That's quite the body count," Gates said. "But as you can see, I have a pretty strong alibi."

"Come on, Victoria," Kate fought the urge to roll her eyes, "we all know you and Bracken are connected enough that you can have anyone killed, even when you're behind bars."

"I'm afraid you vastly overestimate my influence, Detective." Gates glanced over her shoulder before leaning in closer to the glass. "The Senator and I are radioactive now. Ever since we got thrown behind bars, no one will touch us."

"Yet there's a conspiracy out there with your name all over it," Ricki countered.

"That's because William Bracken never acted alone," Gates explained.

The detective and the writer exchanged a glance before Kate scooted to the edge of her seat. "You're saying Bracken had a partner."

"Come on," Gates scoffed. "Do you really think he did all of that by himself? Okay, at first, he was the proverbial lone wolf. The scheme to blackmail the three dirty cops? That was all him. But once he got elected to Congress, someone took him under his wing."

Kate arched a brow. "What this someone Gustavo Bauer?"

"Bauer was a pawn, just like the rest of us." Gates folded her arms across her chest, the phone nestled between her ear and shoulder. "No, Bracken's partner is high on the food chain, higher than you might think."

Ricki glanced at Kate. "Don't suppose this partner has a name."

Gates shook her head. "Even if I knew it, I wouldn't tell you."

Kate pursed her lips and tightened her grip on the phone. "Agent McCord mentioned something called LockSat. Do you have any idea what that is?"

Gates' eyes widened and some of the color left her face. Dropping the receiver, and letting it dangle, she pushed herself out of her chair and backed up with a shake of her head. Glancing over her shoulder, Gates swallowed hard before turning her gaze back to the two women on the other side of the glass.

She reached back to pound her fist against the door to alert the guard.

"Victoria?" Kate asked as the door opened.

"If you two know what's good for you, you'll start running."

Gates stepped through the threshold, followed by the guard, and the door shut before either Kate or Ricki could respond.

* * *

_Ricki's loft…_

"Whatever this LockSat is," Ricki mentioned, leaning against the desk in her office, "it freaked the hell out of Gates."

"Bracken was the same way," Roger McCord added. "The second I mentioned LockSat, he started looking for a way out of that room, and he swore up and down that we were both dead men."

"But what _is_ LockSat?" Kate asked.

McCord could only shrug. "No clue. Bauer's files aren't specific."

"Victoria mentioned that Bracken didn't meet his partner until he was already in Congress," Ricki mentioned. "That what he did when he was Assistant DA, he pretty much did on his own."

McCord nodded. "Extorting those cops to fund his campaign."

"And killing anyone who threatened to expose him," Kate added.

"What about the man he hired?" McCord asked. "Whoever Bracken hired to do his dirty work back then?"

Kate shook her head. "Dick Coonan was murdered. And Bracken tried to frame me for it."

McCord rose from his seat in one of the chairs across from Ricki's death, pacing and forth as he scratched underneath his chin. He stopped by the window, overlooking one of the city's numerous overcrowded streets, a trail of brake lights extending as far as he could see. One thing D.C. and New York had in common: bad traffic.

"Coonan couldn't have been his only hired hand," McCord said with a shake of his head. "What about Vulcan Simmons?"

Ricki flinched at the name, her shoulders tensing before she felt Kate's fingers intertwine with hers. Even if the man who had kidnapped Alexis was dead, Ricki still had the occasional nightmare about the man, about the one being who brought her to the brink of losing the most precious person in her life.

As glad as Ricki was that her father had dealt with Simmons, she sometimes wished she had the opportunity to deal with the drug runner herself. The saying _Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned_ wasn't quite accurate; more likely, it was _Hell hath no fury like a mother crossed_.

Kate shrugged. "He was a drug pusher until he was killed."

"Oh, he was more than that." McCord turned to regard the two women again. "Six months before his death, Simmons struck up a partnership of his own with Senator Bracken. The deal expanded Simmons' reach far beyond Washington Heights, and in return, a substantial cut of his profits would go to an account called Future Forward."

Ricki frowned. "Wasn't that a SuperPAC?"

McCord nodded. "Dedicated to funding the Senator's eventual presidential campaign."

"Kidnapping Alexis wasn't just retribution for looking into Bracken," Kate guessed. "It was Bracken's roundabout way of tying up loose ends."

"Using my daughter?"

"Bracken probably thought by getting to Alexis, he could get to you… and then get to me." Kate shrugged. "Killing us outright didn't work, so he decided breaking us might work better."

"Until your father got involved."

Ricki shot a confused look Agent McCord's way. "You know about my father?"

"Enough to know he only works for Uncle Sam in the technical sense." McCord dipped his head. "Enough to know that he's as involved in this as we are, and that he's part of the reason the body count's so high."

* * *

_Somewhere…_

William Bracken smirked when the heavy door to his cell – with one mattress and a poor excuse for a toilet – swung open and a woman approached. Her guard's outfit was ill-fitting, and her short-cropped red hair stuck out awkwardly from the hat she had clearly re-purposed from another guard.

"So," he quipped, "you're the one they sent."

"You were expecting someone else?" the woman chirped back, pulling a small dagger from her pocket. The blade wasn't quite three inches in length, the handle nothing more than refinished wood.

"Hoping."

"Sorry to disappoint," the woman said, resting her free hand on Bracken's shoulder before jamming the dagger into his gut. The disgraced Senator clenched his jaw with a hiss, doubling over as his hands began to shake. He stared up at the redhead, flinching when she removed the weapon, only to stab him once more.

Three more times, the woman stuck the dagger into Bracken's stomach and chest, before he fell back against the toilet. He had stopped breathing by this point, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. She watched a droplet of blood fall from the blade and land on the floor, allowing herself a self-satisfied smile.

She fished a flip phone from her pocket, pushed a button.

"_Yes, Rita?_"

"It's done," she announced. "William Bracken will no longer be an issue."

"_Perfect. The McCords are your next targets._"


	61. Chapter 61: LockSat

_**Author's Note: Posted for #CastleFanficMonday. Enjoy!**_

* * *

_Ricki's loft…_

"So whose side is my father on?"

There was a desperation in Ricki Castle's voice that Kate Beckett had never heard. She caught the way her fiancée's finger trembled when she pointed it at Agent McCord. The writer's teeth gnashed together, and her brow scrunched in something that looked like anger. But Kate knew better; Ricki was more scared than anything.

Scared and confused.

Richard Rodgers was a confounding man, particularly when it came to his daughter. Ricki had spent much of her life assuming her father had been a one-night stand for Martha, that her birth was the lasting legacy of one night of… well, whatever that one night was.

But as it turned out, Richard and Martha had been married the entire time, that the one-night stand line was a cover while Richard traveled the world under several different aliases doing whatever Uncle Sam wouldn't – or couldn't – officially do. That work was what saved Alexis from Vulcan Simmons.

But Richard was also responsible for at least two deaths at this point, and his allegiance was being called into question. The fact that he had shown up the previous night nursing a gunshot wound – only to disappear before providing concrete answers didn't help matter. That seemed to be his MO, and as the body count kept growing, Ricki couldn't help but wonder if maybe her father wasn't so heroic after all.

"Near as I can tell?" Roger McCord said with a grimace. "Ours."

"Then I hope the bullets Lanie pulls out of Anita and Sam's brains don't belong to him," Kate muttered as she folded her arms over her chest.

McCord shook his head, perhaps a little too emphatically. "Our intel suggests those aren't his kills."

"Then who is?" Ricki demanded. "Who has my father killed?"

"Vulcan Simmons," McCord began ticking off names, counting with his fingers. "Gustavo Bauer, Madsen…"

"Great." Ricki shook her head and ran both of her hands through her dark hair. "Maybe my father will get Gates and Bracken next, so all of this will finally go away."

Kate flinched when Ricki's voice faltered at the end, closing the distance between them in front of the writer's desk. She slipped her arms around Ricki's waist from behind, resting her chin on her fiancée's shoulder. Ricki's muscles relaxed at the contact, and Kate felt her lover melting into her embrace.

"Look," McCord cleared his throat and looked away, feeling a measure of awkwardness over the emotional display in front of him, "I understand that things are complicated as far as Richard Rodgers is concerned, but frankly, we have more important issues at the moment."

McCord's phone buzzed before either woman could respond, and he placed a finger in front of himself before swiping his thumb over the touchscreen.

"McCord." Almost immediately, his expression darkened. "I'm sorry… _what_?!"

McCord cursed under his breath when he ended the call, practically shoving the phone into his pocket before running his fingers through his short-cropped hair. He began to pace in Ricki's office, shaking his head and ignoring the concerned looks from the two women. Once McCord got to the window, he fished for his phone again.

"Rachel," he greeted once the call connected. "We've got a problem."

The next words out of the agent's mouth caused Kate's blood to run cold.

"Gates and Bracken are dead."

* * *

_The morgue…_

Even as Lanie Parish hunched over Anita Miller's corpse, carefully extracting the bullet from her forehead, she couldn't help but roll her eyes. The two detectives standing behind her weren't staying anything. In fact, they were barely moving. But she could feel their presence over her shoulder, and if there was one thing Lanie didn't care for, it was being rushed.

"You _do_ realize you standing there won't get this bullet out any faster," she chided.

Javier Esposito and Kevin Ryan exchanged a glance. They stood side by side, their hands stuffed in the pockets of their overcoats. They had been stationed near the slabs where their most recent murder victims laid, choosing to channel their frustrations over the case into impatience – which, in hindsight, was a bad idea.

Lanie didn't respond well to impatience.

"Well, you know how McNulty is," Ryan offered, casting a sideways glance at his partner for support.

"Yeah," Esposito added, "he's all over us for a break."

Lanie stood and waved her tongs at the two detectives. The metal was caked in blood, the bullet clutched at the end. "Now, you know damn well that's a lie. McNulty's got the patience of a saint. Besides, these two have barely been dead for three hours."

Ryan and Esposito glanced at each other again. Their mouths were opening, but neither of them were able to form actual words. Lanie smirked at their skittishness, placing the bullet into a small, clear evidence bag before handing it to Esposito.

"I can guarantee the one in Sam Carson's head will be the same caliber," she said. "So… feel free to send that one to Forensics. Unless you _like_ watching me extract bullets from people's brains."

Another nervous glance between the two detectives, before Esposito took the bag.

"Hold up," Lanie said, her eyes narrowing. "I know what this is. You two are worried about Beckett."

"What?" Ryan scoffed with a little too much force, looking at his partner again. "No, that's not –"

"Of course it is," Lanie interrupted. "You two always hover around me like lost little puppies whenever something comes up that involves her. I mean, I get it. She's in a rough time, and you wanna help."

Esposito was the first one to crack. "We think she might be in danger."

"And that's different from when, exactly?" Lanie arched her brows. "That girl's been in the damn crosshairs since she got her badge. As I recall, she took a sniper bullet to the heart and survived. Ask me? That means she can handle anything."

"We just wanna help," Ryan said.

"Then do your jobs," Lanie countered. "Standin' around here breathing all over my scrubs won't do her a damn bit of good. Finding out where that bullet came from just might."

Without so much as another word, the two detectives left the morgue. Lanie rolled her eyes with a smirk before turning her attention to the second body splayed out in front of her. Sam Carson had been a tall, imposing figure, but laying on her slab like this with a small hole dotting his forehead, he looked as frail as anyone else.

With a wistful sigh, Lanie studied the entry wound. It was almost a perfect circle, with none of the jagged edges that normally came with gunshot wounds. Bullet penetration was often a violent, messy process. More often than not, Lanie would only manage to extract a portion of the bullet. But the bullet she had just pulled from Anita's head was still in perfect shape – blood stains aside.

Something told her this would be no different.

* * *

_Ricki's loft…_

No sooner did Roger McCord drop the bombshell, Kate had slipped out of Ricki's office and tucked herself away in their bedroom. Every impulse Ricki had screamed for her to go after Kate, but Ricki knowing her fiancée the way she did had decided that, for the time being, discretion was the better part of valor.

Thankfully, McCord had also gotten the hint, choosing to leave the loft and give the women their space. He tucked his phone to his ear again as he left, undoubtedly on the phone with Rachel. Whether Rachel was his wife or relative of some other sort, Roger hadn't said – but she was clearly as involved in this as he was.

Holding two steaming mugs, one in each hand, Ricki slipped into the bedroom to see her fiancée standing in front of the body-length mirror next to the bathroom. Kate had peeled off her shirt, a lacy black bra covering her as the fingers of her left hand trailed over the valley between her breasts.

Even without seeing the reflection, Ricki knew exactly what Kate was doing. The patch of puckered skin in the middle of Kate's chest was a constant reminder of not just her tenacity and her penchant for survival, but of the man who almost took it all away – after taking away the one person Kate once held dearest.

Ricki set the mugs down on the nightstand before coming up to Kate from behind. She grabbed her fiancée by the shoulders and planted a soft kiss to her temple.

"Kate," she whispered.

"I should be happy," Kate muttered, cringing when her voice gave out.

"Happy?"

Kate gave a half-hearted, one-shoulder shrug. "That the man who killed my mom is gone. That the man who did this –" Again, her fingers trailed over the scar. "—is gone. That the man who tried to kill you is gone."

"And no one would question you if you were," Ricki assured, turning Kate to look at her instead of the mirror. Ricki's thumb brushed over Kate's cheek, swiping away a tear that wasn't actually there. "But you're not."

Kate shook her head and glanced at the floor.

"He was supposed to spend the rest of his life in prison," she said. "I mean, he _did_, but… this feels like the easy way out."

"There's nothing easy about this, Kate."

Kate sniffled and gave her fiancée a confused scowl, shaking her head. Ricki sat on the edge of the bed, pulling Kate gently into her lap before running her fingertips up and down her back. "I mean… Bracken was holed up in a maximum-security prison. If they got to him there…"

"Then there's no telling what else they're capable of," Ricki finished.

"Not to mention, we don't even know who _they_ are."

"I'm not so sure I want to know," Ricki mumbled, almost under her breath, but still loud enough for Kate to hear.

"You think your dad had something to do with this?"

"The way he's been playing Whack-a-Mole with the bad guys?" Ricki shook her head and touched her forehead to Kate's. "He's been tracking down Bracken even back when Simmons kidnapped Alexis. Maybe all this commotion was the opening he needed."

"And he brought down Gates," Kate added.

"Or maybe it's not my dad," Ricki countered a little too quickly, hope and optimism forced into her tone. "Maybe it's this LockSat thing that seems to have everyone scared shitless."

"And who's to say LockSat isn't connected to your dad somehow?"

Ricki huffed in mock offense, slipping her arms around Kate's waist. "Buzzkill."

The two women smiled at each other, their foreheads resting against each other again. Kate let her fingers trail along Ricki's jawline, her brooding from just a few minutes ago all but forgotten. Whatever this case was, whatever had led to both Victoria Gates and William Bracken being killed in prison, it was still out there, but Ricki – like she always did – had a knack for taking Kate's mind off of it for a while.

Somehow, when Ricki had her arms around Kate, the most overwhelming things didn't seem quite so bad.

"I love you," Kate whispered against Ricki's lips.

"Love you too," Ricki returned before their lips brushed together, the slightest hint of a touch that never failed to ignite a spark within them both. But no sooner did their lips touch, a loud _pop_ interrupted them. The sound caused both women to jump, and Kate yelped as she dug her nails into Ricki's shoulders.

A second _pop_ sent Kate falling to the floor, gasping for air and clutching at her chest. Her hazel eyes darkened and widened, and it wasn't until Ricki grabbed her shoulder again that the detective finally looked up, sucking in a deep, ragged breath before looking down at herself.

She was fine. She hadn't been hit.

"Kate," Ricki said with a gentle shake. "Kate, you with me?"

Her breathing was still ragged and shallow, but Kate swallowed and nodded before forcing herself back to her feet. Then, in the blink of an eye, all of the skittishness washed away and Kate reached for the service piece she kept hidden in the closet. Checking the magazine, she locked eyes with Ricki again, nodding once before leaving the bedroom, passing through Ricki's office, and approaching the front door.

Ricki was right behind her, shedding her heels so they wouldn't make any noise against the solid floor in front of the main entrance. Kate hesitated before peeling the door open, stepping into the hallway with the gun cradled in both hands.

Once her gaze reached the end of the hall, by the elevator, Kate's heart stopped. Slipping the gun inside the waistband of her pants, she glanced over her shoulder at Ricki before bolting down the hall. Ricki was in close pursuit until they approached the body sprawled out on the floor in front of the elevator's metal doors.

Roger McCord laid on the floor, glassy eyes wide open. He had a bullet hole in his forehead and another in his chest.

Ricki covered her mouth and stepped away from the federal agent's body, while Kate studied their surroundings. Opposite of the elevator was a window that overlooked the rest of SoHo, and there were two small holes in the glass.

Ignoring the burning sensation in her gut, and the phantom pulling of her scar, Kate clenched her jaw and fished for the phone in her pocket. "This is Detective Kate Beckett, Twelfth Precinct, badge number 41319. I need to report a homicide."

Ricki leaned against the wall as Kate gave directions and other instructions, squeezing her eyes shut.

Kate's voice was the only thing to cut through the mess that was the writer's head.

"Be advised, our victim was a federal agent."


	62. Chapter 62: Reckoning

_**Author's Note: Here we are, the last update before the holiday. Enjoy! And everyone have a safe and wonderful holiday.**_

* * *

_Ricki's loft…_

The hallways between the elevator and Ricki Castle's loft had been blocked off with more crime scene tape than Ricki had ever seen, and between the NYPD and the FBI, there were more people crammed into the hallway than she thought could fit. Then again, a federal agent had just been gunned down in said hallway, so of course the cavalry would be here.

Ricki hated been cooped up in her loft, especially after someone had been killed so close to it. She felt like a target all over again, all too aware of the scar on her side from the last time she wound up in someone's cross hairs. It was a terrible, stomach-churning sensation, one Ricki wouldn't wish on her worst enemy.

Which was why a flare of anger overcame her when Kate Beckett stepped out of her office.

"Castle, I need you to stay here," she all but ordered, cradling the writer's face in her hands.

"And where are you going?"

"To the precinct." Kate tucked a strand of hair behind Ricki's ear. "The feds are already there coordinating with us on the investigation, and Rachel will be coming by. Someone needs to fill her in."

"Let McNulty do it," Ricki insisted.

"I can't do that." Kate shook her head. "Her brother is dead because of something involving me, and I need to look her in the eye and promise her that we'll track down whoever's behind all this."

"And what if you're next, Kate?" Ricki let her hands rest on Kate's hips. "It's obvious whoever's behind LokSat is tying up loose ends. Already, they've killed a corrupt police captain, a disgraced Senator, and a federal agent. When does your number come up?"

"When does yours, Rebecca?" Kate argued, watching Ricki tense as Kate had used her given name for the first time. "Or Martha? Or Alexis?"

"I just don't want you to be out there by yourself," Ricki tried a different tact, her voice softening, even as the determination hardened in her gaze.

"I know, babe." Kate gave her fiancée a soft kiss, her fingers trailing over the collar of Ricki's royal blue button-down. "But I'll be at the precinct. A place crawling with cops and federal agents. I just… I need you stay here for Martha and Alexis. I don't want them here by themselves with all the commotion outside."

Ricki was still not convinced, and she still didn't like staying behind while Kate went off to do what she did best. The annoyance and the disagreement were etched all over the writer's face, but as she pursed her lips, she nodded and slipped her arms around Kate's waist.

"Alright." She sighed and gave Kate a soft kiss… because anything more would make begging her to stay too tempting. "But you be careful. And let me know if you find anything."

"I will," Kate promised. "I love you."

* * *

_The Twelfth…_

"Yo, Beckett," Javier Esposito called out as soon as Kate stepped off the elevator and onto the Homicide floor. "Agent McCord's sister's waiting for you in the conference room."

As many times as Kate had met with victims' loved ones throughout her career, it never got any easier. Maybe because she knew what it was like to be on the other side of the conversation. What it meant to sit there, balled-up tissue in her hands as a plain-clothed detective with heavy, drooping eyes expressed condolences and promised to do everything they could.

Only in Kate's case, the detective in question didn't do all he could.

The day Kate got her badge, she had promised to herself that those platitudes, those pronouncements of justice, would be more than just words. She prided herself in such a high closure rate, not for bragging rights, but for the families who now had peace because of her work. The pain was still there, but knowing who, knowing why… that mattered.

She had expected Rachel McCord to be hunched over in the conference room, eyes red and puffy. Shoulders slack. A distant gaze focusing on everything and nothing all at once. But Rachel was pacing back and forth, her posture straight. Her wavy black hair was disheveled, but her eyes held not emptiness, but determination.

A fierce, dogged need to get to the bottom of this. _Now._

"Rachel McCord?" Kate asked when she stepped into the conference room. "I'm Detective Kate Beckett. I –"

"Were working with my brother on the LokSat case," Rachel finished, shaking Kate's hand with a surprisingly tight grip. She was roughly the same height as Kate, and she held herself with a sense of importance much like her brother. "Sorry your murder investigation snowballed into something the feds had to get involved with."

Kate ducked her head. "I'm sorry you lost your brother."

"Thank you." Rachel swallowed and slid her hands into the pockets of her black dress pants. Her ID badge, which Kate immediately recognized as FBI, clung to her belt. "He always had a feeling this case would kill him."

"Seems like this case is killing everyone," Kate added.

"And you and I are probably next," Rachel said as if it were as commonplace as snow in New York in January.

Kate visibly shuddered at that, folding her arms over her chest on instinct. She felt the fabric of her bra brushing against the scar in the center of her chest, swallowing back a mouthful of dread. She remembered Ricki's warning before she left, about how she didn't like Kate doing this on her own. Kate was inclined to agree, but the last thing she wanted to do was get Ricki killed.

She was not going to be the reason Alexis lost her mother, or Martha her daughter.

"What do you know?" Kate asked.

"Pretty much everything Roger knew," Rachel answered with a shrug. "The AG team was an offshoot of the FBI. We collaborated throughout the entire case, even though my brother has his team did most of the heavy lifting."

"What about Richard Rodgers?"

Rachel huffed a laugh and shook her head. "Richard Rodgers… Jackson Hunt… Alexander Cross… Derrick Storm… doesn't matter what name he uses. He's a Grade A pain in the ass and a loose cannon, but he gets the job done."

"Does that work include LokSat?"

"No." Rachel stood a little bit taller, which Kate thought impossible. "Rodgers is many things, Detective, but a traitor to this country isn't one of them."

Kate pursed her lips. "His daughter isn't so sure."

"Well, no offense," Rachel replied, a sideways grin creeping onto her face, "but his daughter makes things up for a living."

"True." Kate couldn't help the rueful smile on her face. "But Ricki's also got good instincts, and she's not convinced her father's one of the good guys."

"Good guy is a… relative term." Rachel shrugged. "But he's not with LokSat. If anything, he's the reason we've made as much headway as we have… and why the body count isn't any higher."

Strange, considering at least three of the bodies in question were people Rodgers had killed.

"I need to find out who is," Kate said. The look of disbelief Rachel shot her way was expected, but it only strengthened Kate's resolve. "Whoever's behind all this was Senator Bracken's partner, and the trail of bodies they're leaving won't stop until they're put down once and for all."

"Or until they kill everyone they need to kill."

"And when does that stop?" Kate stepped toward the FBI agent. "It didn't stop with my mom. It didn't stop with Vulcan Simmons. It didn't stop with Justin Marquette. Hell, it didn't even stop with Gates and Bracken. How many bodies do they need before this stops?"

A knock on the door stopped Rachel before she could respond, and both women turned to see Esposito sticking his head through the door. He waved a manila folder in his grasp and rose his eyebrows.

"Ballistics came back on the slugs we pulled from Anita and Sam," he announced. "Military-grade sniper rifle, same model used in the Bauer and Madsen murders."

"Where are we on the weapon?"

"Same place we were last time you asked," Esposito deadpanned. "CSU's still going over the surrounding rooftops, but so far… nothing."

"Keep me posted."

As soon as Esposito shut the door to the conference room again, Rachel shook her head. "They're not gonna find anything. And even if they do… what then? The FBI and the CIA can't touch this guy. What makes you think the NYPD has any chance?"

"Maybe we don't." Kate shrugged. "But I'll be damned if I'm not gonna try."

After all, it had taken Kate more than a decade to bring down the man responsible for killing her mother. If ever a case had tested her patience and resolve – to say nothing of her ability to take a bullet – that was it. She brought down a prominent United States Senator when he was gearing up for what most thought was a successful presidential run.

Truth be told, a shadowy intelligence figure didn't scare her much.

"Then for your fiancée's sake, I hope you succeed," Rachel warned.

* * *

_Outside the Twelfth…_

As soon as Kate weaved her way out of the precinct, still a little weirded out by how nonchalant Rachel McCord seemed to be, she fished her phone out of her pocket to send Ricki a text. Part of it was to check in on the whole family, make sure everything was alright; the other part was to see if Kate would be swimming through a sea of federal agents on her way back to the loft.

The response was swift: _Feds still in the hall, Mother's flirting with the photographer._

She pocketed her phone with a smile, before stumbling forward when a man's shoulder bumped into hers. Kate looked up with a scowl, but the thin man wearing a Mets ballcap nodded in her direction and mumbled an apology.

Brushing off her pants, Kate shook her head before a voice called out to her from behind.

"'Scuse me, miss? You got a light?"

"Uh, no," Kate answered, glancing over her shoulder. "Sorry, I don't smoke."

The bearded man in the ratty sweatshirt shuffled off, and by the time Kate stood fully upright again, she felt something jab her in the side of her neck. She gasped and her entire body went rigid, a syringe emptying into her bloodstream. Her eyes grew heavy, her arms falling limp to her sides. Within seconds, Kate's eyes fluttered shut and she fell back into the arms of someone dressed from head to toe in black.

That person had a wheelchair handy, shifting Kate's unconscious form into the seat before fishing out a flip phone. Passersby seemed disinterested as the masked figure wheeled Kate down the sidewalk and around the corner.

"I've got her," a muffled female voice confirmed.

"_Good_," a digitally-altered voice spoke on the other end. "_Bring her to me._"


	63. Chapter 63: Panic

_**Author's Note: Because I know some are gonna give me hell for the way this chapter ends... remember that were there ever to be an actual major character death, I would provide the proper warnings beforehand. Besides, remember the canon from which I'm borrowing here. That said... enjoy! And please review.**_

_**Also, my new book, BLOOD TIES, is now available on Amazon!**_

* * *

_The Twelfth…_

In the six hours that had passed since her last correspondence with Kate, Ricki Castle had grown increasingly worried and frustrated. The pit in her gut was now rolling and turning over onto itself, and she had practically paced a path in the carpet of her office. Every call to Kate's cell had gone to voicemail, every text merely _sent_ instead of _delivered_.

Even calls to her desk line had gone unanswered.

No sooner did the elevator doors open, Ricki pushed her way past them and onto the Homicide bullpen. The place was crawling with so many FBI agents that she had a hard time picking out any familiar faces. Even LT was hard to spot, which given both his height and the fact that he never missed a day of work, was saying something.

Ricki had come to the precinct at Martha's insistence. Her mother saw the worry on Ricki's face and told her that she was better off simply going to the Twelfth and finding out for herself what was really going on. Though truth was, Martha was probably just tired of Ricki's constant worrying and agitated pacing… and she just wanted her out of the loft.

Ricki finally managed to spot Detective Ryan, who was hunched over a stack of paperwork at his desk. His landline phone was trapped between his shoulder and his ear, and Ryan didn't immediately notice when Ricki plopped herself down into the chair beside his desk.

But Ricki did notice the depth of Ryan's furrowed brow and the way his lips were pursed. He looked like he was angry and frustrated and worried all at the same time, and all that did was cause the pit in Ricki's gut to deepen even further. Once Ryan locked eyes with Ricki, his brow furrowed, but he shook his head and shrugged the shoulder that wasn't propping up the receiver.

"What do you mean, you can't get a trace?" Ryan asked with an edge to his voice Ricki had never heard. "It's a police-issued phone, it can't be off!"

This time, the furrow in Ricki's brow deepened.

But before she could say anything, she heard the door to Captain McNulty's office open. When she glanced over her shoulder, Ricki saw the captain standing in the doorway, a solemn look on his face as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. The bags under his eyes, which were seemingly permanent, looked far darker than usual.

"Ms. Castle," he greeted like he always had. "Could you step into my office, please?"

Dread mixed with adrenaline at this point, and Ricki found her legs wobbly as she rose from the chair and stepped into Captain McNulty's office. He shut the door behind her and closed the blinds, purposefully avoiding Ricki's gaze before returning to his leather swivel chair. It creaked when he lowered himself into it, straightening his tie.

"Captain," Ricki began, cringing when her voice cracked. "What's going on? Where's Beckett?"

"We don't know," McNulty said in a disturbingly matter-of-fact tone.

"You don't –" Ricki cut herself off with a clench of her jaw, her hands balling into fists so tight that she could feel her nails digging into her palms. The nagging dread that had gnawed at her gut for the past few hours had exploded into full-blown nausea. The fear that something would happen to Kate was always there – hell, Kate had almost died just weeks after they met – but this felt different.

Because until now, Kate had never been unaccounted for. Every time before, _someone_ always knew where she was. But if Captain McNulty didn't know, then chances were Ryan and Esposito were also in the dark.

And if the immediate family was in the dark…

"Captain," Ricki said in a clipped tone, "what do you mean, you don't know?"

"No one has seen or heard from her since she spoke with Agent McCord," McNulty explained.

Ricki frowned. "Agent McCord? I thought he died in my hallway."

"His sister is a federal agent as well," McNulty explained.

"Does _she_ know where Beckett is?"

"Ms. Castle," McNulty sat up a little straighter, his hands in front of himself in a placating gesture. "We -"

"Save it, sir." Ricki paced back and forth, her right fist now grinding into her left palm. "I don't need 'we're doing all we can' right now. I need to know where she is!"

"I understand you're worried about your fiancée…"

"No." Ricki leaned over McNulty's desk, her fists digging into the wood. "Beckett is not just my fiancée. She is my partner, and partners look out for each other. That's one thing hanging around here for the past year and a half has taught me."

McNulty shook his head. "I don't know what to tell you, Ms. Castle. But with the bodies piling up…"

"And what if Beckett's the next body?" Ricki nearly gagged as soon as the words left her mouth. She was shaking now, trying desperately not to imagine the love of her life on Dr. Parish's slab, but unable to avoid it.

She sucked in a deep breath to keep the tide of emotion at bay.

She had tried to talk Kate out of leaving the loft. At the very least, Ricki wanted to come with her. Realistically, Ricki knew there was only so much she could do. She had no formal police training, she didn't even have a weapon. And yet, she and Kate were better off when they were together on something; she hated the thought of Kate being out there, wherever, on her own.

Her mind was awash with possibilities. None of them good.

"So what's the plan?" Ricki fought the urge to roll her eyes when the captain shot her a quizzical glare. "Please tell me you have a course of action when your best detective is unaccounted for."

Before McNulty could respond, a knock on the door interrupted him. Ricki glanced over her shoulder to see Detective Esposito sticking his head inside, a disturbingly solemn look on his face. He never once regarded Captain McNulty, instead locking eyes with Ricki before tilting his head to the side.

The message was clear: _follow me._

* * *

_Conference room…_

"What is it, Javi?" Ricki demands as soon as the door shuts behind her.

"Castle, this is Rachel McCord," Esposito introduced, pointing at the tall woman with wavy black hair sitting at the head of the conference table. She looked nothing like the woman who had just lost her brother, instead sitting with a posture that demanded respect and maybe a little bit of fear.

The FBI badge on her blazer didn't help.

"Sorry for your loss," Ricki managed to say, in spite of the thousands of things running through her head.

"Much as I appreciate the sentiment, I'm afraid we have more pressing concerns," Rachel answered with an almost imperceptible shake of her head. She nodded at the chair to her left, motioning for Ricki to sit.

Once she did, Ricki noticed that Detective Ryan was also in the room now – as were a pair of male FBI agents whom she had never seen. Truth be told, they looked more like Men in Black then FBI.

Then again, MiB was a government agency, wasn't it?

"You know where Beckett is?"

"Not exactly," Rachel said with a cringe. "But we've just received some very disturbing intel with relation to LokSat."

Whatever color left on Ricki's face disappeared, and she grabbed the armrests on her chair so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She swallowed thickly, willing both the lump and the bile in her throat to lower. This was exactly what she was afraid of when Kate walked out of the loft several hours earlier, and exactly why she had insisted on going with her.

Then again, if this had the FBI spooked, what good was a mystery writer?

"Normally, I wouldn't be sharing this information with a civilian," Rachel explained as Ryan slid a manila folder across the table toward Ricki. "But given that Detective Beckett is your fiancée, and the fact that both Detectives Ryan and Esposito vouch for you, I'll make an exception."

"I appreciate that," Ricki muttered as she opened the folder, immediately met with a mugshot. A woman who appeared to her in her fifties, with close-cropped red hair and lifeless eyes. Ricki had never seen her before.

"Her name is Rita," Rachel said. "We believe she's the one responsible for Anita and Sam's murders."

"What about Madsen? Bauer?" Even as she asked, Ricki knew the answer.

"No, those… those are a little closer to home."

"This… Rita." Ryan furrowed his brow and flipped to an empty page in his notepad. "I'm guessing that's an alias."

"That's my theory." Rachel straightened her posture even more, which Ricki didn't think was possible. "We have intel that suggests she's a former CIA operative gone rogue, and that she might be the one behind Bracken's murder."

Ricki closed the folder and pushed it away. "She the partner?"

Rachel shrugged. "Possibly."

"Former intelligence operative gone bad." Ricki shook her head. "No offense, Rachel, but that sounds like something out of a Derrick Storm book."

Rachel's eyebrows shot upward. "Ricki Castle, the skeptic? The way Detective Ryan talked, you all but consider _X-Files_ a documentary."

"Let's just say my skepticism kicks into gear when people I love are in danger."

"Would it help if I told you who our source was?"

"Not if the next words out of your mouth are Jackson Hunt."

Rachel couldn't help the rueful smile that crept onto her face as she shook her head. "Ever the writer, spotted the plot twist from a mile away."

"How do we know he's not in on it, too?" With each word, Ricki became more animated, until ultimately she pushed herself out of the chair and began pacing back and forth. She ignored the pointed glance that Ryan and Esposito shared, stopping and jabbing her finger in the air, pointed at Rachel. "Yeah, the guy _says_ he's on our side, but funny how the body count keeps going up whenever he's around."

"Your father is the only reason the body count isn't any higher," Rachel countered. "If it weren't for your father, Madsen would've taken out both you and Beckett by now."

"Well, then I guess that makes him Father of the Year."

"Look." Rachel rose from her seat and straightened the lapel on her blazer. "You got Daddy issues, and I get that, but frankly… I don't care. We have legitimate, actionable intelligence that could help bring down LokSat once and for all, so you and your fiancée can go back to your lives."

"Assuming they haven't killed her already," Esposito gave voice to the one thought Ricki couldn't bear.

But before the writer could say anything, her phone rang. The shrill tone startled everyone in the room before Ricki managed to swipe the device from her pocket and bring it to her ear. "Yeah, Castle."

"_Castle! Castle, it's me!_"

Ricki turned to look at Esposito, who immediately ran back to his desk to begin a digital call trace. Ryan and Rachel both followed, while Ricki clutched her phone as tight as she could and stepped back into the bullpen. "Beckett?"

"_Castle, they've got me. They've got me and they're gonna… oh, god…_"

"Slow down, Beckett. Who's got you? Where are you?"

"_You've gotta help me! Castle! Castle!_"

The line went dead before Ricki could say anything. Pocketing her phone with shaky fingers, she made a beeline for Esposito's desk just as he placed the receiver back on the console and pulled open the drawer where he kept his service piece.

"Please tell me you got a location."

"Abandoned warehouse on the corner of 54th and Lex," Esposito announced, holstering his piece and turning to Ryan and Rachel. "Gear up. No telling what we'll find there."

"I've got my vest in the trunk," Ricki said as she pushed past Esposito, who grabbed her wrist.

"No," he warned. "Castle, stay here."

Ricki narrowed her eyes and pulled her wrist out of Esposito's grasp with a shake of her head. "It's Beckett. There's no way I'm staying."

"Castle –"

"She isn't just my fiancée, Javier." Ricki's jaw clenched. "Would you stay if it was Ryan?"

Ricki stormed off toward the elevator without waiting for Esposito to reply. Instead, she glanced over his shoulder at Ryan, who was holstering his own weapon. Rachel was already on her way to the elevator as well, phone pinned to her ear. Without catching every word, it was clear she was calling for back-up.

* * *

_54__th__ and Lex…_

Per Esposito's order, Ricki had hung behind he, Ryan, and Rachel as they took lead. The tactical unit had the abandoned warehouse – all six stories of it – surrounded. Sniper rifles were trained on shot-out windows, and law enforcement officers in riot gear were trained on either side of the door where they thought Kate was being held.

A long-range scope confirmed that location, the sight of a woman bound to a chair and wearing the same outfit Kate had been wearing when she left the loft.

Ricki could feel her heartbeat in her throat. Her hands would not stop shaking. She felt at any moment like her knees might give out. Yet the adrenaline kept her upright, the knowledge that she was so close to finding her fiancée, to holding her in her arms again once the boys stormed in and saved the day.

Esposito's fist banged against the door three times, the sound echoing in Ricki's head.

"NYPD! Open up!"

No response.

"NYPD, open _the fuck_ up!"

Again, nothing on the other end.

Esposito and Ryan locked eyes, and when the latter gave a terse nod, Esposito sprung to his feet. With his Sig cradled in both hands, Esposito slammed the bottom of his right boot into the door, breaking it off the frame and sending the hinges skittering across the floor.

A frantic voice stopped everyone in their tracks.

"No, Castle, stop! Don't come in here, it's a trap!"

No sooner did Kate give her warning, three gunshots rang out. The tactical unit hung back as Ryan and Esposito flinched at each _pop_. Ricki stood, completely motionless, watching blood spray from the chest of the woman tied to the chair. Not once, but twice.

The third shot, which sent a spray of blood from the woman's forehead, knocked her head back and nearly drove Ricki to her knees.

The boys charged into the room, followed by the tactical unit.

But Ricki's feet would not budge.

_No_. Just… _no._

"Beckett," she whispered, her entire body shaking. Bile tickled the back of Ricki's throat, and her hands curled into fists. This was like every nightmare Ricki had suffered through in the year and half since she had met Kate, but worse. Far, far worse. Nothing she could write would ever live up to the terrible reality of this moment.

This second in time, when Ricki was sure she had just watched her life come to an end.

"_Beckett, no!_"


	64. Chapter 64: Resurrection

_**Author's Note: Submitted for #CastleFanficMonday.**_

_**Enjoy! Reviews are love.**_

* * *

_54__th__ and Lex…_

"_Beckett, no!_"

The gunshots still echoed in Ricki Castle's ears, all else falling away as she bolted into the abandoned room. She didn't notice Detectives Ryan and Esposito flanking her on either side, their service pieces trained for a threat that may or may not be there. She was oblivious to the tactical unit storming in.

Not once did it register that there was a semi-automatic rifle in the far corner, rigged with an elaborate get-up that made it fire off a few rounds when the doors to the warehouse opened. She never noticed the voice recorder sitting next to the rifle. Ricki didn't even notice the wisps of smoke fluttering from the barrel.

All she could see was the woman tied to the chair. Wearing her fiancée's clothes. With her fiancée's hairstyle. The engagement ring Ricki had given her at the Hamptons shining on her left hand.

Most sickeningly of all, the blood pouring from her chest and forehead.

Ricki dropped to her knees, already sobbing. Her hands shook, the sight of her beloved slumped over in death nearly enough to send her doubling over and retching. The bile was burning the back of the writer's throat, and even as her lower lip quivered and her vision blurred, Ricki couldn't tear away her gaze.

"No," she whimpered, oblivious to the chaos surrounding her. It never even occurred to Ricki that there might be more gunshots. "God, Kate, no… Kate, I'm sorry. I'm so… so sorry…"

The pointless apologies continued spilling from Ricki's lips, and she reached up to brush locks of auburn hair from the other woman's face. She sniffled and choked back another sob, only to blink in confusion when she felt the hair give way to her touch. Tears cleared from her vision, Ricki looked down to find a bloody wig in her grasp.

She looked up and… the dead woman was blonde.

Which…

"_It's not her!_" Ricki called out with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm, bolting upright again and waving the wig for the two detectives to see. "It's not Beckett!"

Both Ryan and Esposito exhaled in relief, lowering their respective weapons. Ryan pursed his lips with a single nod, approaching Ricki. "Gun was rigged to go off when the doors opened. Voice recorder has Beckett's voice on it."

"So whoever did this wanted to torture me," Ricki muttered, wiping the remaining tears from her eyes and once again feeling the urge to be sick. "But if they're going out of their way to make us think she's dead, then she has to be still alive."

Esposito scowled. "But where?"

Now that the shock and the adrenaline were beginning to wear off, Ricki could only feel one thing: pure, unbridled rage. It was a feeling she rarely had, matched only by the time her daughter had been kidnapped. She had to force her hands not to curl into fists; instead, she simply dropped the wig she had still been carrying.

"Figure out who that girl is," Ricki said, pushing her way past the two detectives.

Ryan glanced over his shoulder. "Where are you going?"

Ricki didn't answer as she disappeared from the warehouse.

* * *

_Midtown…_

Ricki honestly hadn't expected Rachel McCord to be so forthcoming, but she was grateful for the assist. Not only had Rachel told Ricki exactly where she could find the person she needed to see, but she had also arranged for the writer to secure a firearm. Rachel clearly didn't care for Ricki's plan, but the seriousness of the situation told Rachel that it was better to do as Ricki asked and leave the arguments for later.

Because if this played out the wrong way, none of the arguments would matter anymore.

She cut the engine and stared out the windshield. Across the street sat a fifteen-story apartment complex. One of the few unsecured buildings left in the city. It was a rundown place, the sort of building that attracted the secretive and the downtrodden. It was the sight of many an NYPD drug bust over the years, and it was the perfect hiding spot for the one person Ricki needed to see.

She glanced at the gun in her lap. Taking a deep breath to steel herself, Ricki pushed open the driver's side door and emerged from the vehicle. Tucking the gun into the waistband of her jeans, Ricki stared at the building before she hid the weapon beneath her coat and crossed the street.

Within minutes, Ricki was standing in front of the door to apartment 4D. She forced herself to knock on the door like a normal person, because she wanted the element of surprise in her favor. Banging down the door while shouting expletives would tip her hand.

As soon as the door cracked open, Ricki kicked it the rest of the way open. The force of the heel of her boot dislodged the chain with an audible snap. The door hit the man who had opened it in the face, leaving a nasty gash above his left eye. The man, white beard and all, stumbled back before falling over – at which point, Ricki pulled her gun and cocked it.

"Hello, father," she greeted in an icy tone.

"Rebecca," Richard Rodgers sputtered, gathering himself back to his feet and holding his hands out in front of himself. "What- what on Earth are you –"

"Where is she?" Ricki clenched her jaw. "Where's my fiancée?!"

"I don't know!" Richard's voice trembled as much as his wrinkled fingers. His eyes were impossibly wide, and some part of Ricki marveled at just how _fearful_ he looked. This was a badass covert federal operative, yet he was about to piss himself because his daughter had him at gunpoint?

Ricki had never fired a gun before. Not at someone. Not with the intent to injure or kill. She had shot plenty of guns within the controlled environment of a firing range, doing research for several of her Derrick Storm novels. But she was one twitch away from putting a bullet into someone, all because of the rage and the fear of knowing her fiancée was in trouble.

"I don't believe you." Every time Ricki took a step, Richard scooted backward. "This whole mess started when you showed up. And now Kate is missing, and _someone_ went to the trouble to make me think I had just seen her die."

Richard's face fell, a deep crease in his forehead and his arms lowered. "What?"

"You dressed some girl up to look like Kate, then you rigged a semi-automatic to blow her brains out when we got there to rescue her."

"What?" Shaking his head, Richard slowly got back to his feet. "Rebecca… that makes no sense."

Ricki tightened her grip on the weapon. "I know what I saw…"

"No! Think about it, Rebecca. _Think!_" Richard slowly approached, his hands raised again in a conciliatory gesture. "LockSat doesn't engage in mind games. The people behind this aren't in the business of messing with your brain and your heart. They want someone dead, they just… kill them."

Ricki lowered her weapon ever so slightly, a scowl forming on her face. It took a few moments for her father's words to truly register. As much sense as her father's logic made, it left far too many unanswered questions for Ricki's liking – which only reinforced her opinion that mysteries were great, so long as she wasn't the subject of them.

Richard moved again, and Ricki once more raised her weapon. "So what's going on, then?"

"Honestly? I don't know." Richard's shoulders slumped. "But whoever took your fiancée and staged that elaborate ruse… I'm afraid this is something I won't be able to help you with."

"You better hope you're right," Ricki warned, lowering her weapon before closing the distance between herself and her father. "Because if I find out this _is_ related to LockSat, and you _did_ have something to do with it? We'll all find out together if I've got what it takes to pull the trigger."

* * *

_Somewhere…_

Kate Beckett's surroundings were almost pitch black. Windows were blacked-out. There was no door she could see from where she was. She found herself laid out on a cold metal slab – not unlike the slab murder victims often found themselves on in Dr. Parish's lab. She was bound and gagged, and it occurred to Kate that perhaps she should be more freaked out.

Footsteps drew Kate's attention, and she turned her head to the left in time to see a redheaded woman emerge from the shadows. She was dressed entirely in black, a handgun holstered to her hip. Her hair was cut short and closely cropped against the contours of her face, and her eyes were devoid of any emotion, even as her lips curled into something resembling a smile.

"Catching you was disappointingly easy," the woman muttered, taking a seat Kate hadn't even seen.

Kate's instincts left her to ask what she was doing there, but the words were lost and muffled against the cloth shoved into her mouth. Kate clenched her fists and rolled her eyes.

"You're probably wondering why you're here," the woman said with a mirthless chuckle. "Well, it's not LockSat, so don't you worry your pretty little head about that. No, this is something far more… personal, I'd say?"

The lights came on in that instant, and Kate flinched at the onslaught of light. It took almost a minute before her eyesight adjusted, and Kate still found herself blinking as she stewed over the woman's words. If this wasn't about LockSat, then…

What?

"If I had my way," the redhead said in a disturbing matter-of-fact tone, "you'd have a bullet in your head and we'd all move on to that pretty little fiancée of yours."

"Now now," a familiar voice called out from behind Kate, causing her heart to skip a beat, "Rita, we talked about this."

The other woman sighed and rolled her eyes. "I know… part of our deal."

Kate's eyes darted back and forth, desperate to see the source of the second voice. There was no way. This _had_ to be impossible. Kate had to have been drugged, and the voice she had just heard _had_ to be a figment of her drug-induced imagination. She thought about craning her head to the side, but there was no telling what this… Rita would do in response to such movement.

But as the footsteps grew louder, Kate knew it was only a matter of time before she would find out one way or the other.

"Not sure what kind of arrangement you and the good Senator had," the voice returned, "but it would serve you well to remember that I call the shots from now on."

Kate looked up just in time to see a man in a three-piece suit standing before her, small American flag pin attached to the left lapel. Her eyes met the man's face, and Kate recoiled with a gasp.

The man standing before her looked – and sounded – every bit like Senator William H. Bracken.

"Been a while, Kate," he greeted with an unnerving smile, far more sinister than she had ever seen from him. "I imagine you have quite a few questions right now."

More like a _fuck you_, but there were questions as well.

"Rita," the man muttered from over his shoulder, "could you fetch Dr. Nieman for me? She'll be glad to know that we're almost ready."

Rita rolled her eyes. "You want _me_ to fetch _your_ girlfriend?"

"Detective Beckett and I have some catching-up to do," the man who looked like Bracken said. "After all, I never did get to see her at the motel that night."

Kate's eyes widened. The realization hit her with all the force of an eighteen-wheeler out of control going down the side of a mountain.

This wasn't LockSat anymore. This was much, much worse.


	65. Chapter 65: Hallucinating?

_**Author's Note: Dun-dun-duuuuuuuuuuuuun...!**_

* * *

_Somewhere…_

"You'll love Dr. Nieman," the man who looked and sounded like disgraced Senator William H. Bracken said, pacing back and forth with his hands clasped together at the small of his back. "She's the absolute best in her profession. There's no one I'd rather have slicing open my face."

Despite the gag in her mouth, Kate felt the urge to blurt out a string of obscenities and insults toward the man holding her captive. Fear combined with rage in as potent a mix as Kate had ever experienced. Her wrists were shaking against their restraints, and Kate wondered if she could break free if she just put some effort into it.

But she couldn't risk tipping her hand. There was no telling what the man hovering over her was capable of.

"Truth is, I don't care about LockSat," he added with a one-shoulder shrug. "Let Rita and the feds chase their proverbial tails on that one. No… LockSat was just a means to an end for me. The perfect opportunity to execute my plan and slip back into your lives."

Kate spoke this time, her words muffled by the black cloth stuffed into her mouth. She recoiled when the man reached over to pull the gag from her mouth, shooting him as nasty a death glare as she could, clenching her jaw and balling her hands into fists.

"Why not just kill me?" she asked. "Why not just kill Ricki?"

"Why does everyone assume it's all about death for me?" Jerry-Tyson-as-Bracken wondered aloud. "Just because I've racked up a body count, that doesn't mean I'm only in this for the bloodshed."

He stopped pacing and plopped himself into a wooden chair next to the slab.

"See, that pretty little fiancée of yours fascinates me. She always has." A knowing smile crept onto his face. "Anyone who would willingly come talk to a serial killer like me definitely has some brass ones."

"So, what?" Kate arched a brow. "You're obsessed with Ricki."

"Both of you, if I'm being honest." Tyson scooted the chair closer to the slab on which Kate was bound, the scrape of the wood against the concrete floor making her wince. "She's obsessed with you, which means I sorta am, too. But then you both put a bullet in my gut that night on the bridge, and… well… let's just say Dr. Nieman had her work cut out for her."

"Dr. Nieman stitched you up." Kate snarled. "Remind me to shoot her in the kneecaps for that."

"Alright, that's enough out of you," Tyson muttered, stuffing the cloth back in Kate's mouth and cupping the palm of his hand over her lips. She struggled against Tyson, and the grin on his face only darkened in response.

"You see," he continued, starting to pace again, "it's not about your deaths. I _will_ kill you, don't get me wrong. But the fun lies in tearing the two of you down beforehand. Wearing this face, training my voice to sound like that pompous White House wannabe? That's all about tearing you down.

"Your death?" Tyson chuckled and stroked his hairless chin. "That will be just the beginning for Ms. Castle."

* * *

_The Twelfth…_

The entire precinct was on high alert now that word had spread one of their own was missing. Captain McNulty had exhausted every resource he had, and called in a few favors from neighboring precincts, which meant a sizeable chunk of the NYPD was looking for Kate. Rachel McCord had offered her assistance as well, FBI resources at the ready should McNulty make the call.

But Ricki made sure to separate herself from the commotion, tucking herself away in the dimly-lit conference room. She cradled a steaming mug in both hands; Detective Ryan had poured it for her once they returned from the warehouse. Ricki hadn't taken a sip, instead choosing to focus on the warmth pressed into her palms.

This was Kate's mug. So Ricki held on for dear life.

The door to the conference room opened, but Ricki's eyes didn't lift from the steam until the seat to her left squeaked and she caught the movement out of the corner of her eye. Kevin Ryan had taken off his tie since their return from the warehouse, that godawful building where Ricki thought she had watched the love of her life die.

But she hadn't. It was an elaborate ruse that had everyone shaken and confused. This wasn't like LockSat. Mind games weren't their thing. Whoever was behind LockSat was big on piling up the bodies, letting that brand of carnage speak for itself. The staging of the other woman to look like Kate, to mimic her voice before letting everyone think they had just seen her die… the only thing that made Ricki's stomach churn more than the memory of the blood spatter was the uncertainty of it all.

Ryan's eyes were red, the bags far heavier than usual. "We ID'd the girl from the warehouse," he explained. "Amanda Stone, 24. She had been homeless off and on for the past few years, served time for possession last year. No next-of-kin."

"So they just picked someone nobody would miss and used her to play us," Ricki muttered into her mug.

"Looks that way," Ryan said, pulling a glossy mugshot from his manila folder and sliding it along the surface of the conference table. "Six months ago, she came into a large sum of money – Espo's tracking that now – and she had some work done by a… Dr. Kelly Nieman."

"Work done," Ricki repeated, studying the mugshot. Dr. Nieman's skin was as pale as any Ricki had seen this side of _Twilight_, and between her thin nose, perfectly sculpted chin, and outrageously defined cheekbones, the writer couldn't help if perhaps Dr. Nieman hadn't had some work done herself.

"She's a plastic surgeon. I've put in a request for records of her other patients. It's a longshot, and it wouldn't surprise me if she stonewalls us, but… with our vic being such a loner, the doctor might be our best lead."

"I should've been there," Ricki said, staring at the glossy photo in her hands. "She insisted on coming to the precinct alone. I should've come with her anyway."

"Ricki," Ryan reached out for the photo, briefly letting his hand rest on the writer's wrist, "this isn't your fault, okay?"

"I'm her partner. I'm supposed to have her back."

"And she'll be the first to tell you that you do." Ryan sat up a little straighter, stuffing the mugshot back into his folder. "You can't beat yourself up over this, Castle. The only person to blame here is the bastard who took her."

"I thought I saw her die…"

"So just think about what you'll do once we track down the sick freak who did it."

Ricki finally looked up from her mug. "You and Javi really gonna let me at 'im like that?"

Ryan cringed. "Good point."

The door to the conference room opened again, and when Detective Esposito poked his head in again, Ricki saw that his scowl was a lot more scowl-y than usual. "We got a problem."

* * *

_Det. Esposito's desk…_

"I've been getting nowhere on tracking the money Amanda received before visiting Dr. Nieman," Esposito explained, pointing at the flatscreen monitor on his desk, "but in the meantime, I've been looking into our good doctor here."

"Let me guess," Ricki said, still cradling the mug in her hands, "not much good."

"She's operated her own cosmetic surgery practice for the last three years," Esposito read from the file on his computer, "but before that, she was a physician with the New York Department of Corrections."

Ryan frowned. "How does one go from prison doc to plastic surgeon?"

"Has Lanie determined exactly what kind of work Amanda Stone had done?" Ricki asked.

"Complete facial reconstruction," Esposito recited from memory. "Why?"

"Is there any way to see what prisoners she would've treated?"

Ryan cocked his head to the side. "What are you getting at, Castle?"

"Amanda Stone was made to look like someone else entirely," Ricki explained, slowly regaining her usual mojo as each word passed through her lips. "Not just the surgery, either. The wig, the clothes. She was made up to look like someone, all in an effort to fool us, to fool _me_. Who do we know that adept at subterfuge?"

The male detectives locked eyes, before Ryan's mouth hung open and he shook his head. Esposito grabbed the baseball that had been sitting in a mug on his desk, tossing it back and forth between his hands.

"No way, Castle." Esposito shook his head. "That's out there, even for you."

"Is it really?" Ricki finally set down the mug, most of the heat having dissipated by now. "Guys, we're talking about someone who framed me for murder. Was pretty damn convincing about it, too."

"Okay, but are we missing the part where Jerry Tyson is dead?"

"Is he?" Ricki arched a disbelieving brow.

"You shot him," Ryan argued. "Both of you. In the chest. Then he fell down into freezing river."

"If Tyson's dead," Ricki countered, "how come we never found his body?"

Esposito shrugged. "The current probably carried him away."

Ricki shook her head and reached for the folder in Ryan's grasp. She pulled Dr. Nieman's mugshot from the folder before slapping it onto the white dry-erase board set up beside Kate's desk. Then, she grabbed the red marker and wrote, in big block letters, _Jerry Tyson_.

Esposito shook his head again. "I thought this was all related to Bracken."

Ricki cringed, because _that_ was where her theory started to fall apart. Jerry Tyson made the entire ordeal make sense… except for the fact that Kate was taken while investigating LockSat and everything surrounding it. She had come to the precinct to speak with Roger McCord's sister and to coordinate with FBI agents on the case.

So every indication was, her disappearance had everything to do with LockSat.

Unless this was just a case of worst timing ever.

"Unless," Ryan interjected, "that's what Tyson wants us to think."

"We need more," Esposito argued, "before we pour all our resources into 3XK."

"Which is why it might help if we can find out who Dr. Nieman worked on while she was treating prisoners," Ricki offered. "I'm willing to bet my advance on _Frozen Heat_ that Jerry Tyson was one of those patients."

* * *

_Somewhere…_

"I gotta tell you," the man who looked like William Bracken mused as he began pacing back and forth again, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his custom-tailored suit, "reading up on Senator Bracken was _fascinating_. I mean… all that ambition, all that power… the guy could practically write his own ticket to the White House, and yet… he face-planted before the race even started.

"That's not to say you weren't fantastic, because you were. You were _relentless_, Detective. All those years passed without so much a peep on your mom's case, and yet you kept chipping away at it. Chipping away, chipping away…

"Until, lo and behold, you caught a break. Then another. Then another. Course, every break in the case seemed to come just after you had almost been killed. Your girl's got guts, Beckett; I would've bailed the second my own gunshot wound healed."

Knowing exactly what Tyson was trying to do, Kate kept her eyes glued to the dark ceiling. She clamped down on the gag in her mouth, and her left hand began fondling at the bindings around her wrist. The binding itself was secure, but there was a bolt where a support arm was supposed to be connected to the table. It had come loose, though, and there appeared to be a sharp edge on which Kate could begin working the binding against.

It was to be slow, tedious… but if Kate could draw this out long enough, and not get caught, then maybe things weren't as hopeless as she thought.

"I'll admit, making his arrest public like that was a stroke of genius."

Tyson approached the slab again, hovering over Kate. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of his new face, made no less haunting now that she knew it wasn't _actually_ Senator Bracken. Her wrist slowed, careful not to let any excess movement catch his eye.

"Was that Ricki's idea? Or is there a little more Nikki Heat in you than people think?"

Kate didn't even attempt to speak, instead averting her gaze. The sight of this psychopath wearing her former nemesis' face and suit, using his voice, was enough to make her sick to her stomach. She could taste the bile and the acid tickling the back of her throat, but the desire to break free, the need to get out of here and reunite herself with Ricki, were so great that they overrode her physical responses.

"See, funny thing is," he continued, "I did all this under the assumption the guy was still alive. That way, I could keep the charade going just a little bit longer. But then this LockSat thing happened, he got gutted, and… well, cat's out of the bag now, huh?

"S'ok. I always have been pretty good at improvisation. If nothing else, I can make another run at that pretty little girlfriend of yours. See just how badly I can freak her out before she's begging me to slit her throat."

The jerk of Kate's shoulder was involuntary, though the rage in her eyes made it clear exactly what she wanted to do with her arms were they not trapped behind her and bound to the slab. Her left hand continued working on the binding, feeling some of the material start to give way. It was an annoyingly slow process, and Kate wasn't sure she would survive long enough to break free.

In fact, her little outburst was sure to have consequences, wasn't it?

But all Tyson-as-Bracken did was chuckle to himself. Straightening his posture, he slipped off his tie before yanking the American flag pin from his lapel. He then reached down to pat Kate on the cheek, the smile on his face growing when she violently recoiled.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," he muttered, heading toward the door, "I have a phone call to make."

* * *

_The Twelfth…_

Ricki Castle knew she needed to go home. There was nothing more she could do here at the precinct, not with the boys following the Dr. Neiman lead and the feds doing… whatever the hell they were doing. She knew she should go home to her daughter, try to put on a brave face for the teenager who would likely have several impossible-to-answer questions.

Yet every time Ricki tried to talk herself into heading toward the elevator, her stomach flipped in protest. She could not talk herself into leaving, even when logic told her she should.

An empty mug sat beside her on Kate's desk. Ricki had planted herself in the guest chair beside the desk – _her_ chair – since pow-wowing with Ryan and Esposito, and was determined not to move until there was a break. Going rogue – again – was tempting, but Ricki didn't want to go out there and do something she might regret.

So for now, discretion won out.

For once.

Ricki's phone rang, the shrill tone echoing in the bullpen and startling her. Glancing over her shoulder and sheepishly grinning at the uniforms who were staring at her, Ricki straightened her posture before swiping her thumb over the touchscreen.

"Castle."

"_How close to death do you wanna get? Hm?_"

Her blood running cold, Ricki bolted from her seat and practically sprinted to the break room. Ryan and Esposito, who were taking a brief respite from their leads, looked up with matching furrowed brows when they saw Ricki with the phone to her ear and her eyes wide.

"Who is this?" she asked as she put the phone on speaker.

"_You mean you don't know?_" the voice countered, the familiar cadence catching all three of them off-guard.

"Where's Beckett?"

"_Now, you know better than to ask a politician a direct question like that. But I can tell you this: she is alive. Course, you probably already know that. Enjoy the little show I put on?_"

The line went dead before anyone could respond. For what felt like minutes, Ricki and the boys stared at each other, mouths agape. They all _heard_ Senator Bracken's voice on the other end of the line, but all three of them knew how impossible that all was.

Wasn't it?


End file.
